Loyalty Burns Like A Flame
by Ec1aire
Summary: Their enemies are closing in. Forced to go on the run for a crime they didn't commit, Bucky and Daphne are doing all they can just to get back to one another. Yet they have more allies than they thought, and they find themselves facing this threat with help from surprising sources. But without the advantage of Daphne's foreknowledge, who knows what will happen? Bucky/OC. Book five.
1. 1 - Life Is A Bitch

**A/N: Well, here we are! Book five of the series. This one will encompass Civil War, and will be the last one of these for a while now :( But, I'll no doubt start another once the next relevant Marvel movie comes out. For those of you joining me for the first time, I would highly recommend you go back and read the rest of the series, otherwise this won't make a lot of sense. As for everyone else, I'm going to warn you that a lot of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. characters will appear in this, and while I'll try to avoid putting in any huge spoilers, there may be one or two smaller ones in there, so you have been warned. For now though, let's get this show on the road.**

 **I would like to thank blushingpixie and AngelLove1728 for following/favouriting WTPCC since I posted the epilogue.**

 **I'll also respond to Love. Fiction. 2016's review here as well with a simple, but heart-felt thanks! :)**

* * *

 **1 - Life Is A Bitch**

The first rule of going on the run: don't run, walk. The second rule is that if you can disguise yourself, do. Rule three is almost the same; if you can rewrite your personal story, do, and with as much detail as you can. My personal tactic for that is to mix in a little bit of the truth. A lie is harder to forget if the truth is woven into it.

While not an official rule, I like to add a fourth one to the list - give yourself an alibi. Within the new life you create for yourself, find a story that is believable and can be (at the very least) acted out. An easy way to do this is simply to find yourself a job, learn about it, and appear enthusiastic about it. The people who work alongside you will become your alibi eventually.

I knew what I'd chosen to do was a dangerous idea, but when you were as pressed for time as I was, coming up with a new alias was almost impossible. So I picked up an old one - Coralie Bachelot. I changed her background a little, making her a mythology (specifically Norse mythology) major from Culver University. Most of the rest stayed the same though - she was still French, she still had long, red hair.

For my alibi, I was searching for a job in a library (or something similar), as a lot of places like that hired specialists. I'd taken to hiding out in Virginia (the location of the aforementioned university), and had found a student flat to rent where Felix could happily stay during the day without getting us kicked out by the landlady.

My attention was drawn from my admittedly interesting book about the Valkyrie race when I heard the sound of a two people - both women, it seemed - arguing.

"I told you, it's just around the corner!"

"Which corner? 'Cause I'm pretty sure we've been around at least a dozen corners since you said that and we're still no closer to finding the right place."

"Hey, don't yell at me - I was in the other side of the state when I studied. I don't know this site."

"Yeah, well, I've got ten minutes before I'm supposed to be giving a lecture on modified Newtonian dynamics and I refuse to be made late by your non-existent sense of direction."

"Someone around here might know where to go," the first voice said. "Hey, what about that girl there!"

It took a second for me to realise they were talking about me, and upon realising that their footsteps were getting closer, I lifted my head and finally looked at the women I'd been eavesdropping on. My time with Thor alone would tell me immediately who these women were, but my additional knowledge just cemented the fact in my head. Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster were making their way towards me, the latter looking somewhat distressed while Darcy looked as relaxed as anything.

"Hi," Jane said, "sorry to bother you but Darcy here has no idea where she's going. Do you happen to know where the physics section of this campus is?"

I smiled. "Of course," I replied, making sure to add a bit of an accent to my voice. "Though you're going the wrong way." I pointed ahead of me, at the large white building almost directly behind the women. "It's that building, on floor three. Who are you lecturing for?"

"Um..." Jane dug around in her bag for a moment, before pulling out a piece of paper. "Professor..." She blinked. "Bah... Bajrak..."

"Bajraktarević?" I finished with a smile. I knew who he was. I knew who most of the professors were - one had to be thorough with research when creating a new life for themselves. Overly so sometimes. "He's should be in lecture hall four on the ground floor. That's where he usually goes when he has other scientists coming in to do talks. Otherwise it'll be room P345. Still, if in doubt you can always ask the woman at reception - she's a nice lady, and never fails to get you where you need to go."

Jane sagged with relief. "Thank you for your help. I really should hurry though." She turned to Darcy. "Don't do anything stupid for the next two hours." Then she grasped hold of the strap on her bag and jogged towards the building.

Darcy turned back to me and held out a hand. "Hi, I'm Darcy."

I smiled and shook her hand in return. "Coralie," I answered. I pointed at Jane's back. "Do you do physics like her?"

Darcy laughed and shook her head, sitting next to me on the bench I'd picked out. "No, I was a political science major."

I chuckled. "So West Virginia," I guessed.

Darcy grinned and nodded. "Yeah. I only ever came here once, to go to the most boring lecture in the universe." She looked at me, then the book in my hand. "So what're you studying?" She peered closer at the book. "Ooh, Norse mythology! I know a fair amount about that."

I plastered a look of surprise on my face. "You do? But I thought you said you did political science...?"

Darcy grinned. "Yeah, but Jane - the woman I was with is Jane Foster by the way - is currently dating Thor. As in _the_ Thor; you know, the blonde Avenger with the hammer."

My eyes widened, and I had to physically bite my lip in order to hold back my laughter at the smug expression on Darcy's face. Doing that would probably ruin the 'nerdy mythology major' look I was going for. " _That's_ Jane Foster?" I asked, pointing at the building again, even though Jane had long since disappeared inside.

Darcy nodded. "Mhmm," she hummed. "You heard about her?"

I scoffed. "Of course!" I shook my head. "She's trying to figure out the science behind the Bifrost. I find that keeping up with her research helps me with mine, too."

Darcy nodded idly, before looking around. "Hey, you up to anything for a while?"

I shook my head. "No, why?"

"Well, as Jane said, I've got two hours to kill, and you seem pretty cool. Wanna hang out for a couple hours?"

I hesitated, wondering whether going out with a known associate of Thor was a good idea when the whole world was looking for me and Bucky, but then figured it couldn't do all that much harm. I was a different woman, and to decline might end up drawing more attention to me. So I closed my book and smiled. "Sure," I said in the most cheerful voice I could muster. "Why the hell not?"

* * *

I had a feeling agreeing to this outing was a bad idea. Nothing wrong happened, per say, but if I hadn't agreed to it I would have remained blissfully ignorant to what was going on halfway across the world.

The place we'd chosen to stay was a little café, which had an old TV above the counter in the classic kind of way. Having ordered drinks (she ordered a black coffee, while I ordered a cappuccino because, really, why wouldn't I treat myself?), we ended up sat in a booth almost directly opposite the TV. So when I glanced up and saw news of a series of ash eruptions from Mount Raung in Indonesia, my first thought was one of panic.

For the first time in days, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and speed-dialled a number I knew by heart anyway, ignoring Darcy's look as I quietly apologised and then stood up, heading outside so I wouldn't have to keep up the accent.

" _Hello?_ "

"Kaia? Are you alright?"

" _Daphne?! Jesus, woman, what the hell do you think you're doing phoning me?! Do you have any idea how many people are looking for you right now?! What if you're phone's been chipped?! They might know where you are, you stupid woman!_ "

I let relief settle into my gut as I listened to her rant. She wouldn't do that if anything is wrong. "I had to make sure you were alright," I told her calmly.

There was a brief pause. " _Why wouldn't I be?_ "

"There are eruptions going on in Indonesia," I explained. "Since you never told me _exactly_ where you decided to run off to after leaving Australia, I just wanted to make sure they're not happening too close to you."

Kaia laughed. " _Aww, one of the world's most badass assassins is worried about me. I'm touched!_ "

"Kaia..."

Her voice was significantly more serious when she spoke again. " _Sorry. I'm fine. It actually all happened a month ago and has mostly calmed down now anyway. Besides, I'm two islands away from that. I'm in Kuta, which in on Lombok. There's no hint of anything coming this way_."

I let out a breath of relief. "That's good to hear. Decided what the plan is yet?"

" _Yeah, actually. Mason and I both gonna head over there to help the Avengers prove yours and Bucky's innocence after the whole affair in Vancouver. He's got some friends who might be able to dig up some juicy evidence to help you guys_."

I raised my eyebrows. "He's called Mason?"

" _Yeah, didn't I tell you that before?_ "

"Nope," I said with a grin. "Maybe I'll get to meet him soon, as long as this doesn't blow up in our faces."

" _I'm sure we'll be fine. Where are you now?_ "

"Not sure I should tell you that. Besides, I'll be leaving soon anyway."

" _What? Why?_ "

"Because you're right - I've compromised my position just by calling you." I glanced around me. "For all I know, there are already three teams of people on my tail. I have to be quick."

Kaia sighed on the other end. " _Alright, Daph. I'll let you get back to running. Just be careful, yeah?"_

I found myself nodding, before remembering she couldn't see me and responding verbally as well. "I promise," I said. "Glad to hear you're okay. Love you."

" _Love you too. Bye_."

"Bye." We hung up at the same time, and after looking around me again, I walked back towards the café, crushing my phone in my hand and then dumping it in the closest bin while I walked past it. At least, if someone _were_ to trace it, it would give me a few hours head start. I met Darcy again and plastered my best impression of an expression of worry and guilt on my face. "Darcy," I said, and she looked up from her phone.

"Hey, you okay?"

I shook my head. "Um, no, my sister is in Indonesia at the moment. My whole family are worried out of their minds, so my mum's asked me to head over to my parents' house, just in case. So, I... I have to go. Sorry."

Darcy nodded, a solemn expression on her face. "It's alright," she assured me. "I don't really understand, but I also kinda do." I raised an eyebrow. She grinned meekly and shook her head. "Go. I'll survive on my own. And I'm sure your sister will be fine."

I nodded. "Yeah. Hopefully." I smiled at her, before rushing out of the café again, mentally preparing myself for my next bout of travelling. I decided it was probably worth going further afield, which meant I'd have to brave an airport.

What could possibly go wrong?

As if responding to that thought, the sound of jet engines sounded above my head, and I, along with everyone else on the street, looked up to watch as the familiar body of a quinjet came to a halt above the street, before slowly descending and landing on the road. Within seconds there were men and women leaving the plane, holding devices in their hands. I became one of a number who were stood motionless, staring as the Agents (probably of the new S.H.I.E.L.D.) started looking around at everyone, trying to find something or someone. I had a feeling I knew who it was they were searching for.

My breath caught in my throat when someone I never thought I'd get the chance to see in person stepped off the ramp of the plane. He wore a blue suit with a white shirt and a striped blue and grey tie, and had that neat haircut I'd recognise anywhere.

I was a little bit lost on what was going on in _his_ timeline, because I didn't manage to get past the first series of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. before being zapped into this universe, so it was a genuine shock to see Phil Coulson emerge from the jet alone.

"Sir!" one of the Agents called, and my eyes drifted to where a male Agent was pulling the mangled remains of my phone from the bin. Damn, these people worked fast.

"Is it hers?" Coulson asked, approaching the Agent.

"Yes, sir. Or at least, it's the phone that the call came from."

"She can't have gotten far since she dropped the phone," Coulson said, looking around. Every instinct in me was telling me to avert my eyes so he wouldn't notice me, but I held firm, plastering a look of curiosity on my features and continuing to watch the two. In this environment, with so many people staring, it would be more noticeable if I wasn't looking, rather than if I was.

I let out a small breath of relief when his eyes skipped over me just as quickly as they did everyone else. When no one was looking I quietly slipped away, using every aspect of my training to remain calm and subtle, but not invisible. A woman who simply disappears is likely to draw attention.

As soon as I was around the corner I picked up my pace, heading towards the flat I'd taken temporary residence in. I locked the door behind me the moment I stepped foot inside the flat, giving Felix barely more than five seconds of attention before moving towards my bedroom. I ducked under the bed and pulled out my duffel bag of small things, before scrambling around the room picking up anything I'd need or want with me.

I paused just as I was zipping up the bag, startled to hear a sharp series of knocks on the door. I waited for a moment, waiting for a second set of knocks just to make sure the person had the right flat number. When they came, I knew that I had two viable choices. First, I could try to escape out the window, which might work, but if there were people out there waiting for me then I'd get caught instantly, and nothing was more suspicious than someone trying to sneak out. Of course my other option was to answer the door and risk being captured. Then again, it could just be Mrs Tilbury delivering her twice-weekly batch of homemade cookies.

Sighing, I shoved the bag back under my bed and then moved to answer the door, Felix trotting protectively alongside me. I let out a deep breath before pulling back the lock and swinging the door open.

The man that stood there was relatively broad-shouldered and tall, but not overly so. He wore a black 3 piece suit with his left hand shoved in his pocket. Which meant he was probably right handed, as that was the hand he'd used to knock on my door, and was the one free to reach for a weapon should he have one to hand.

"Can I help you?" I asked, putting special care into making my French accent sound as genuine as I could.

He gave me a terse smile. "My name is Agent Alan Jackson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

"You know, you really should just keep it shortened to S.H.I.E.L.D.," I said lightly. "Almost everyone knows what S.H.I.E.L.D. is right now, so there's not much point literally spelling it out." I smiled pleasantly, only to huff when Felix nudged his head between my leg and the doorframe. I gently pushed him back with my foot, before turning back to the man. "So what can I do for you, Agent Alan Jackson?"

"You were seen not far from here when we landed."

I nodded, deciding denying it would probably get me into more trouble than admitting to that. "Yes, I'd just left a café on that street when the jet arrived."

"Might I ask your name, ma'am?"

"Coralie Bachelot," I replied certainly, before adding, "I'm from France, if you didn't already guess that."

He nodded slowly, before holding out a picture of me. Well, me as I used to be. "Do you recognise this woman, Miss Bachelot?"

I nodded slowly. "Yes, she's that Hydra assassin, right? Silver... something. Her face is all over the news, along with the other guy's."

"Have you ever seen her before in person?"

"Gosh, no," I scoffed, shaking my head. "If a woman with that many years of experience is in hiding, I doubt any ordinary person would be able to see her."

Agent Jackson stared at me for a while, before tilting his head to the side. "Miss Bachelot, I'm going to request that you come with me."

I blinked. "Am I being arrested?"

"No, ma'am. I just think my superior will want to meet you himself."

Letting out a sigh that was completely genuine, I reluctantly nodded my head again. "Fine. But I want to take my dog with me."

Agent Jackson eyed Felix with a slightly miffed expression, before grunting. "As you wish. Now let's go. If all goes to plan, you'll be back home by this time tomorrow."

"And if it doesn't go to plan?" I couldn't help but ask.

I received no answer.


	2. 2 - Ancient Curses

**A/N: Hi again, and thank you SO much for everyone who is already following this. I had more support than I was expecting, so thank you (again). I'll probably update again on Christmas Eve, but just in case I don't, I'll wish you all a Merry Christmas right here, just to be safe ;)**

 **Big thanks to: a song on the pond, Unajet, Smile. Smile. Twitch, Seven. avengers, Le03725, Lara Barnes, Jezabelle31415926, Head Auror Avenger of Five-0, Eryniel Alasse, BlackravenRedrose, AngelLove1728, Sweet Petit, Love. Fiction. 2016, Jacxx, Regin, CheekyLittleFoxy, sticksandbones1795, kanka 1201, gotenxbulla, dhnysports88, THE VOLTURI RULE2, Saphem, PaintingTheRosesReddishPink, Lexiepexie08 and Dizzy010 for following/favouriting. Wow, guys, this is amzing. THANKS!**

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 **Eryniel Alasse: First and only so far ;) I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it, though, and yes, of course I included a cliffie. How could I not?**

* * *

 **2 - Ancient Curses**

I had to admit, the new S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't mess around with their holding cells. The four walls were all reinforced, completely soundproof, and the door handle was sturdy enough that even someone with my strength couldn't use it to force the door open. Not that I tried - that would cause _way_ too much suspicion. But I didn't need to try to see how much strength the handle had.

I'd been in the cell with Felix (who was lightly snoozing with his head in my lap) for maybe ten minutes before the door opened and Phil Coulson stepped inside, his left arm in a black sling. He had a serious expression on his face, and I knew I had my work cut out for me if I wanted to maintain my façade.

Coulson stared at me for a long time, clearly trying to decide whether to talk first or make me talk first. I didn't care either way - I'd most likely end up saying all the same things anyway.

"Who are you?" he asked at length.

"You already know the answer to that," I pointed out with a lopsided grin. "Or did AJ not tell you?"

"AJ?"

"Agent Alan Jackson," I explained patiently. "Alan Jackson... AJ." I shrugged. "I was bored. Had to do something to pass the time."

"And you decided to nickname an Agent," he mused with an amused quirk of his lips. That half-smile quickly faded. "Who are you really?" I simply cocked my head to the side slightly. "Coralie Bachelot? That was the name of one of our first Agents back in the early 50s."

I chuckled. "You've done your homework, I see. Congratulations on that."

Coulson looked less than impressed. "You're hiding something."

"In my defence, I was taken from my own home," I said, forcing another smile onto my face. "You'll forgive me for being a little cautious with what information I give away. You're part of an intelligence agency - even something unimportant will be analysed and kept record of, to be used whenever it's useful. I feel like I have to be really careful what I say to you."

"You know a lot about this agency," he said, and there was a tone of accusation and suspicion to his voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Did you miss the part where Black Widow released S.H.I.E.L.D. files onto the internet?"

"Most of that was encrypted," he pointed out. "Not just anybody could access those files."

I couldn't help but smirk. "And who said I fell under the category of 'just anybody'?" I leaned back, letting out a breath, before letting the lies spill from my lips. "Agent Coralie Bachelot - the one you mentioned - was my grandmother. She was captured by some bad people in the mid 50s, and one of them forced himself on her. My mother was born in early 1957. Both of them were kept hidden away until an army squadron came across the base and took it out, freeing my grandmother and mother in the process. My grandmother moved them back to France, and she raised my mother there. My mother was... incredibly promiscuous, let's say. She was relatively careful though, and it wasn't until 1985 that she got pregnant. I was born in June of '86. My mother named me after her mother, who died four months before I was born."

Coulson stared at me again, his lips pressed into a firm line. I maintained easy eye contact, breaking it only when Felix let out a small whine. I turned my attention to him and scratched him tenderly behind the ear, remembering when Bucky used to do this all the time. A wave of sadness washed over me, and I was hit hard by how much I missed him. Felix, sensing my sudden change of mood, shuffled closer to me and gently licked my face. I smiled and stroked his head, before looking back up at Coulson, whose eyes had softened. The rest of his face remained like stone.

"You're in university?" he asked suddenly.

I blinked, before nodding. "Yeah," I said, wondering where this line of questioning was going to lead. "I'm majoring in Norse mythology."

"And where do you plan to go next?"

I shrugged. "Not really sure. Maybe go and work in a museum or something - somewhere where my skillset will be most useful, I guess."

"And what's your main point of study right now?"

"I don't... really have one," I said slowly. "Most recently I was reading about the Valkyrie race, which was interesting..." I trailed off, before letting out a low curse.

Coulson raised his eyebrows. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah, I left my book in the café earlier. That thing set me back a lot of money."

"I'm sure you'll get it returned to you," he said flippantly, and I knew he didn't really care about the book. I didn't either, but it went well with my story. I also was vaguely curious as to how I'd managed to leave it there. I was usually pretty good at paying enough attention to realise when I didn't have something I arrived with. "Have you ever studied Norse artefacts?"

I nodded. "Yeah, they were actually my first focus," I said, glad that in this sense I could be honest. When first arriving on Asgard, I'd spent a lot of time locked in the palace library (I will never see a bigger or better library in my life), researching Asgardian history. Famous objects were covered in quite a lot of detail. I tilted my head to the side. "Why?"

"We've recently acquired an artefact that we believe to be of Norse design. I wonder if you could identify it for us."

I blinked, surprised, before clearing my throat. "Umm... Yeah, sure, I suppose."

Coulson nodded and then disappeared. I wondered what we was doing, what he was trying to achieve from this. I honestly couldn't work it out. When Coulson returned he was carrying a sheathed blade, with a golden hilt. As he drew closer to me I was able to see there were runes carved into the leather of the sheathe.

After making sure he wasn't going to stab me with it, I carefully reached out and took the blade, noting its surprisingly significant weight. My eyes went first to the runes on the side. I'd never been taught how to read Norse runes, but I had learned to recognise a few. I managed to make out four of the seven letters, and when I managed to fill in the rest of the gaps my blood went cold.

My head snapped up, eyes wide. Coulson was tense immediately. "What is it?"

"Has anyone unsheathed this sword since you've had it in your possession?" I asked, my concern coating my voice. _Please say no. Please say no. Please say no. Please say-_

"Not completely." My confusion must have shown, because he went on to elaborate: "One of my Agents pulled it halfway out of its sheath. Why?"

"If I'm right, then this is Tyrfing. It's an ancient sword forged by the dwarves. The man who demanded it be made instructed that it be done in such a way that it would never miss a stroke, would never rust and would cut through stone and iron as easily as it would cut through flesh. But, in revenge for their hands being forced, the dwarves who created this cursed it so that once it was drawn, someone had to die." I shook my head. "I don't know how they make it so, but I'm guessing that the sword takes control of its wielder until it takes a life. This is a dangerous artefact to hold. I suggest you take it and hide it where no one will ever find it."

I passed the sword back, both of us now taking extra care not to let the blade fall from its place in the sheath. Coulson stared at me for a second before saying slowly, "Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Bachelot."

I couldn't stop myself from smirking wryly at the irony of those words. "My pleasure, sir."

He chuckled. "It's Director Coulson, by the way."

Smiling to myself inwardly, I nodded. "Nice to meet you, Director Coulson."

* * *

It was a long time before anyone came to speak to me after that, and I wasted the time by singing quietly to myself, entertaining Felix as much as I could in such a small space, and trying to figure out how Coulson could have possibly gotten his hands on such a legendary Asgardian weapon. I was drawing a blank. The blade had been missing for centuries, and most of Asgard believed it had long been destroyed. I would have to make sure I could get it back to Loki, so he could keep it safely locked away. It was too dangerous to be allowed in the open.

When Coulson came in next, probably around three hours after his last visit, he didn't come alone. Nick Fury was at his side, and as soon as my eyes met his I knew the game was up. He knew my face, and he also knew about Felix, having met the dog during the events with Ultron.

"You lied to me," Coulson said sternly. "To my face. That's hurtful."

"Considering the whole world is after me, I think you can understand why I wouldn't flaunt my real identity on a silver platter," I murmured, sighing when Felix - the treacherous little shit - trotted over to Fury and began sniffing at the man's feet. Fury gave an almost fond roll of his eyes, before leaning down and giving Felix a firm pat on his head. The dog whined happily.

"Going after a care home?" Fury asked, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. "Even when you were fully brainwashed you never stooped that low."

"We didn't do it," I said, scowling at him. "Bucky and I are trying to get away from that life. You of all people know how much we have to lose by having to go on the run again."

Coulson frowned, turning to his ex-boss. "What does she mean by that?"

"The two of them are married now," Fury said, sounding vaguely amused by this. I shot him a glare. "They also have a very young daughter. How old is she now?"

"Three months and twenty-four days," I said, knowing the number by heart. I counted every single day so I'd know how much time I'd missed, so I'd know how long I'd have to make up for my absence.

"If you weren't there to blow it up, why were you there?" Coulson asked, frowning.

"One of my friends had spent the last twenty years or so living there," I replied. "I got a message from one of her carers that she was dying and asked for me to visit. Bucky and I went up there so we could say goodbye to her." I sighed, leaning my head back against the wall. Felix wormed his way back to me, resting his chin in my lap and staring up at me. He'd gotten good at noticing when my mood was declining. "Her whole family was there - including my two godsons. She died while I was in the room with her, and we left not long after. While we were still in front of the building, the whole thing went up in flames." I met Coulson's eyes. "Which means one of two things."

"Either the fact that you were there at the time of the explosion was a complete coincidence, or, and this is more likely, someone was trying to frame you," he concluded. I nodded. He let out a long breath, before turning to Fury. "What do you think?"

"She's telling the truth," Fury said. "She was friends with a woman called Agatha Frye for years. Mrs Frye was a registered resident of the care home that was destroyed."

"Do the Avengers know?" Coulson asked me.

"Yes," I answered. "I left them a note before Bucky and I went off the grid. According to Kaia, they're trying to find evidence to clear our names, though I'm guessing they've not had all that much success so far."

"Kaia?"

"My best friend. You're more likely to know her as Agent Mariana Silva, though."

"Silva was an alias?" Fury asked, apparently surprised to hear this.

I nodded. "It was one I helped her to set up," I told them. "If she had told anyone who she really was before the right moment, everything would have gone wrong, so I made sure she kept her secret until everything else was out in the open. I'm sure if she were here she'd be apologising profusely, though for the record everything else about her was completely genuine. She's still loyal to you."

"I'm not doubting it," Fury muttered under his breath. He then let out a sigh. "You know of course that we can't be seen to have you in our custody while knowing your identity."

"Well, I still look like Coralie Bachelot," I pointed out.

"How do you know about her?" Coulson asked. "I know you're not her granddaughter, so how do you know who she is?"

"I know who she is because she's me," I said calmly. "So is Command Sergeant Major Evelyn Moore, if you're interested." His eyebrows raked up, and I figured he already knew who she was. Then again, since he was such a huge fan of Captain America that wasn't exactly a surprise. "It's a long story," I said flippantly. "When you have some time you can contact Agent Hill and get her to send my complete file over to you. Honestly I'm surprised she hasn't already. But for now, I'd like to know what's going to happen to me."

"We're going to find somewhere for you to hide for a while," Fury said. "We'll get to work on this end trying to get you and Barnes out of the firing line."

I smiled, nodding. "I appreciate that, Nick."

He raised an eyebrow. "Since when were we on a first name basis?"

"Since now," I stated calmly, grinning at him. He rolled his eyes again, but I also noticed the small twitch of his lips, which told me he didn't object to the new arrangement.

"So where do you want to go?" Coulson asked. "I suggest somewhere that you don't have any personal history."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Of course I knew that - I'd been doing this a lot longer than him. But I respected Phil Coulson - a _lot_ \- and so I didn't say anything. "I don't know," I admitted. "I had some backup plans but now I'm not sure whether they're good options or not." I glanced at them. "Any ideas?"

"Bucharest is a good one," Phil said. "Natasha and Clint have established three secure houses over there."

"You know what I'm thinking?" Fury asked, but before he could finish an idea sprung to my mind.

"Where's my sandwich?" I murmured. They both looked at me like I'd finally cracked. I grinned up at them. "I know where I want to go."


	3. 3 - Desperate Times

**A/N: Bit shorter this one, still, I hope you like it. :) Oh, and MERRY CHRISTMAS for tomorrow! (Or today, depending on where in the world you are).**

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* * *

 **3 - Desperate Times**

"Are you sure about this?" Coulson asked, looking around at the small, nondescript town that was currently bathed in cold moonlight.

I nodded, a bag of supplies (including my bank card) and weapons in one hand, Felix's leash in the other. "I'm sure," I said.

"And you're going in as you?" Coulson asked again, still sounding just as doubtful.

I chuckled. "I'll be fine, Coulson." I placed a hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate the help, you know."

Coulson nodded. "You're going through a tough time right now. What's worse is it's for something you didn't even do. The least I can do is offer a hand." He then placed a new phone in my hand. "My personal number is on there. Call it only in the case of an emergency, got it?"

I nodded. "Got it. See ya, Phil. And just so you know, if you don't tell the Avengers you're alive soon, I will do it in your place."

"I can't."

"You can. You just won't." I smiled slightly. "You were the reason the Avengers worked, Phil. They're gonna fall apart without you, just you wait."

Coulson gave me an amused look. "They've lasted this long. I don't see why it'll change so suddenly."

"Two words, Coulson: Thaddeus Ross." I smiled wanly at him, then jumped down off the ramp of the plane.

"Mrs Barnes," Coulson called, and I spun around to face him again. "Thank you. For not asking about my arm."

I shrugged. "I figured it wasn't a pretty story, and it's probably one you don't want to have to recount. To a stranger no less." A smirk flickered onto my face. "Besides, I think you're forgetting my husband's entire arm is made of metal."

Coulson's face twisted with amusement, and he nodded to me before disappearing back into the plane, the lamp raising behind him. I turned around once more and walked along the street without looking back. I smiled to myself slightly as I heard the plane's engines kick in, and then the distinct sound of it flying away.

Felix was obviously delighted to be in a new area, and it took more effort than normal for me to stop him from wandering off. Every time I had to tug him back towards me he looked at me with the softest eyes that all but pleaded with me to let him explore, but I returned it with my own stare that he'd learned to mean he wasn't going to get his way.

"Did you know that a German shepherd dog has a bite force of over a thousand Newtons?"

With a raised eyebrow, I look over my shoulder to see a boy in a thick coat walking towards me, eyeing Felix curiously. "Is that so?" I asked, smiling in amusement. "And what's the bite force of a human?"

"Less than four hundred," he recited quickly. "They're also very good at tracking, are highly intelligent and form very strong bonds with their owners."

"How do you know so much about them?" I couldn't help but ask.

He shrugged, kicking the ground slightly. "I used to have one," he murmured. "Her name was Molly, and she died when I was nine."

"I'm sorry for your loss," I murmured, smiling when Felix stopped staring at the boy and finally decided to approach him. He was indeed a very clever dog, and knew when he shouldn't act like an endless bundle of energy. Now he just stayed relatively still, letting the boy pet him and occasionally moving his head to lick the boy's hand.

"He's so calm," the boy noted in amazement.

"He's not normally," I told him with a laugh. "He just knows when to stop rushing about all the time."

"What's he called?" The boy lifted his head, his eyes alight with a barely controlled joy that caused my throat to tighten a little. Those maternal instincts Bucky constantly teased me about were coming to the fore. If such a small thing could bring him so much happiness, he must have been living a fairly hard life.

"Felix," I replied softly.

"Harley!"

The boy let out an exaggerated groan that had me laughing. "Sister?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah. Unfortunately."

"How old is she?"

"Nine," he supplied just as a little girl with thick, curly brown hair ran around the corner.

"Harley, mom said not to wander off," she said scoldingly. "You're supposed to be watching me, remember?" Then she saw Felix, and her eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. "Oh!" She raced forward and started eagerly patting my dog, causing him to start to wriggle more vigorously as his excitement built. He always loved meeting new people. Harley's sister looked up and she finally noticed me. She gave me a bright smile. "Hi! Is he yours?"

"Yeah, he is," I replied with no small amount of amusement. "Though if you two keep petting him like that, he might not be for long."

Harley's sister giggled. Harley was silent, and when I turned my focus back to him I realised he was watching me intently. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I'm taking my dog for a walk."

"No, I mean... What are _you_ doing _here?_ "

I smiled grimly. "Hiding," I answered honestly. I then added slightly less truthfully, "A friend of mine recommended this place. Said there was a young boy who helped him out a couple years ago when he needed it most. Not in those exact words, of course - his pride would never allow it."

There was another flicker in his eyes, and I knew with absolute certainty that this boy was the one I was looking for. "What's his name?"

"The mechanic," I supplied with a grin. And Harley grinned back, clearly pleased to hear that he'd been remembered. "Is it safe to assume you know the person I'm talking about?"

Harley nodded. "Yeah, I know him." He turned to his sister, who was still eagerly playing with Felix. The dog, of course, soaked up the attention like a sponge. "Sam, do you know where mom is tonight?"

The little girl shrugged, not taking her eyes off my dog. I was starting to get genuinely concerned that she'd try to steal him from me. "I think she's gone to Walker's."

Harley pursed his lips, then nodded. "Alright." He turned back to me. "I'll talk to her later. We have space in the garage, though, if you want to stay for a while."

I couldn't help but question, "You're not afraid of me?"

Shaking his head, Harley began to leave, Felix and Sam following after him. I blinked a few times, then caught up with them all until I was walking beside the older sibling. "If you're a friend of the mechanic, it means you're a good person. Besides, the Avengers are trying really hard to clear your names. It's all over the news." He glanced at her. "Did you do it?"

"No." The word was spoken firmly, and Harley apparently believed me, because he just nodded his head once and then let the topic go. I decided then and there that I liked this kid.

* * *

Bucky hadn't felt this tense in a long time, and he had no idea what was causing his sudden caution and paranoia. Every time his eyes skirted over his surroundings he saw nothing out of the ordinary, saw no one to be suspicious of... But despite this, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him a little too closely.

Bucky had found himself in Norway not long after he and Daphne split up, and the irony of his situation never ceased to irritate him. The _Winter_ Soldier was in an icy, cold part of the country, and he hated every second of it. The snow alone was a nightmare, but while his metal arm was waterproof, the air was sometimes cold enough for the metal plates to freeze and stiffen. More than once he had woken up to find his arm surrounded by a thin sheet of ice.

He'd picked Norway because neither he nor Daphne had ever paid the Scandinavian country a visit. He'd picked it because he was somewhat anonymous here.

At least, that was the theory.

And yet as he traipsed along the snow-covered sidewalk, that feeling of being watched took over each and every one of his senses.

His eyes scanned the streets, the rooftops, every alleyway within half a mile and every shop through the windows. He saw nothing, and it was putting him ever more on edge because that feeling in his gut _would not go away._ He wanted to go back to the apartment he'd found himself, but if he truly was being tailed then that would just lead them right back to his one sanctuary in this entire country.

He had to find a way to draw them out. And to do that he had to play into their hands; do the very thing everyone expects an assassin to do. He had to kill someone.

Obviously that wasn't an option, but that didn't mean he couldn't make it look like he'd done it to draw them to his location.

The next person he caught the eye of was a woman. She was short, slightly rounded and had skin so pale it almost blended in with the snow around her. Her eyes moved away from his after a split-second, but he kept his trained on her, moving as swiftly as he could to follow her. Anyone watching him would be able to trace his movement, but he was subtle enough that the woman wouldn't have a clue. Bucky followed the stranger for maybe two miles, that gentle prickle in the back of his neck remaining the whole time. When the woman turned down a narrow alleyway, Bucky sped up. He began pulling his pistol out from where he'd tucked it into his coat before turning down the alleyway, making his supposed intentions clear to whoever was watching.

The moment the woman disappeared down the other end, Bucky loaded his pistol and fired at the wall. The shot echoed around him, and the silence that came next was strangely loud. Bucky then used the wall to propel himself up onto the fire escape above his head. He was quick to climb onto the roof of the building, and almost as soon as he looked back down a man came around the corner, gun in hand. He had black hair and a growing beard, with a black jacket over his shoulders.

Bucky's first instinctual thought was _Hydra Agent._

He knew Hydra was in pieces, almost decimated, but he'd been trained to hear even the most hard to find rumours. Someone, and he wasn't sure who, was trying to piece it back together again. A new Hydra. In the last month alone, from what Bucky could figure, this unknown party had done a good job of recruiting people to his or her cause.

"It's funny, isn't it?" the guy in the alleyway called out. He couldn't see Bucky staring down at him, having not yet figured out to look up, but he was skilled enough to detect that the Winter Soldier hadn't disappeared entirely. "The moment your life seems to finally settle down, someone goes and does something to screw it all up again."

Bucky tensed the moment those first few words escaped the man's mouth. Was he the one that blew up the care home? Was it the fault of this man that he and Daphne had to separate and hide?

"Story of my life, that is," the man continued. "You do something bad, and when you try to make amends for it, the people you once believed were you friends and allies turn their backs on you." The man slowly put away his gun, though he kept a wary hand resting on it. Bucky couldn't help but be amused by the fact this man, who couldn't see where Bucky was, believed he'd have a chance of retaliating if Bucky decided to strike. Which he was very tempted to do. "Forces from all around the world are looking for you two," he continued, and a smirk flickered onto Bucky's lips. The man thought he and Daphne were together. Good. "But I don't think you caused that explosion, did you? You're running for no reason. You're staying away from your friends, and for what? Fear of the authorities? No, I don't think that's it. I think you're afraid that they'll find your daughter." Bucky's arm whirred when his mind registered the fact that Vera was known. Then he forced himself to calm down. Vera was completely safe - she had the Avengers looking after her. This man - whoever he was - was trying to trick him into giving away his position. Well, he wouldn't be caught out so easily. "She's cute, by the way," the man continued as Bucky turned and started walking away, both hands clenched into fists. "I'd congratulate you, but I doubt you'd accept it." His voice was fading away now. He'd not noticed Bucky's movements. "What I want to know is how you believed, for even a moment, that we wouldn't catch up with you?"

Bucky heard nothing more than that, having launched himself onto the next roof over and then swiftly descended back onto the street. He used his skills to blend in with the crowd, making his way back towards his apartment. If he'd been found, he'd have to move. His vague location had been discovered, and he couldn't risk the possibility of actually being found. He'd have to take extra care to cover his tracks this time, because whoever it was that was following him would no doubt be on the lookout for any mistakes Bucky might have made. For his own sake, and that of his family, he had to make sure he left absolutely no clues behind.

It was a good thing he'd spent most of his life training for situations just like this one.


	4. 4 - I Don't Like Bullies

**A/N: Don't you just hate it when you write out a whole load of stuff, and then either forget to save it or accidentally delete like... all of it? I did that the other day. Still mental kicking myself for that. Planning chapter 10 of this has been a nightmare and a half. Anyway, here's the update. let me know what you think :)**

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* * *

 **4 - I Don't Like Bullies**

Come morning, Samantha (that was her full name) and Harley's mother still hadn't returned. They got up at eight and started getting ready for school alone. They seemed to have such a practiced routine that I wondered to myself how often their mother was even in the house to help them get ready. Or how often, even if she _was_ in the house, she didn't come out to help because she was completely hung-over from her night of drinking beforehand. I'd been told that their mother had succumbed to alcoholism shortly after their father left, and it was a habit she either couldn't or didn't want to break.

Both of them seemed surprised when I walked into their hallway and picked up a coat which I assumed to be their mother's (if she couldn't be bothered to return home to look after her kids, then I had no problem with borrowing her clothing without asking for permission) and then turning with a smile. "Come on, let's go," I said, holding open the door.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked, frowning as she nonetheless picked up her school bag and left the house.

"I'm walking you to school, silly," I said with a laugh, shutting the door behind me as Harley also stepped outside.

"You don't need to, you know that, right?" Harley asked, frowning up at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I do. But I want to. Though you're gonna have to lead the way this time." Sam beamed up at me and nodded, before spinning around and walking along the pavement edge. I was glad there were few enough cars at this time in the morning that the risk of her falling into the path of one was slim. I turned my attention back to Harley after assuring myself Sam was going to be fine. "So when did your school year start? Can't have been all that long ago."

"August 12th," Harley said. "It was a Wednesday. It's my first year of high school though, so the first week we didn't really learn all that much."

"You guys have to start school in August?" I asked, frowning. "Wow, that sucks."

"Didn't you?"

I shook my head. "No, when I was in school, you tended to start a week or so into September."

"But you went to school in England, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that's right." I shook my head. "I don't understand the American school system. It's probably not that different in reality, but it seems like everyone talks in a different language whenever they mention what grade they're in."

"I'm in the 9th Grade," Harley said with a grin when I sent him a look of mock-frustration.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Fourteen."

I spent a moment doing the mental calculations in my head, before nodding. "Okay, so you'd be in Year 10 back in England."

"What about Samantha?" Harley asked, and both of them briefly turned their attention to the nine year old girl who was fiddling with a button on her dress.

"She'd be in Year 5," I answered with a smile. "Still in Primary School." We lapsed into a comfortable silence, until I looked up and noticed we were passing Walker's bar, and I couldn't help but wonder aloud, "Does your mother often stay out drinking this long?"

Harley's eyes darkened, and he pursed his lips. "Yeah, she does. Most days, actually. She'll come home maybe two or three nights a week, sleep for hours, and then head out again. I'm looking after the house more than her, though she does at least still have a job."

"Where?"

His face showed signs of dark amusement. "Walker's. It's why she goes there - she gets an employee's discount. As long as she's sober when it's time for her shift, they keep her around."

"I can't imagine working in a bar brings in all that much money."

Harley shrugged one shoulder. "Not really, but it's okay. I help out other people in town when their stuff gets broken, and I get paid a little for that. So we're not doing too bad."

"You shouldn't be so independently responsible for your sister, though," I said with a frown. "Maybe I should talk to your mother."

Harley scoffed. "You can try, but don't expect to get through to her. She tends to just block people out if they try to get her to stop."

"I'm sure I'll come up with something," I mumbled, my mind already whirling with ideas I could try out. But first, I would try to talk to her. If I could get her to see sense just through words, I wouldn't have to make her go through things she won't like for the sake of her family.

The elementary school and high school were in the same area of the town, so I could say goodbye to them both together. Harley just walked forward without turning back, but Sam spun around when she was a few metres away from me and waved with a grin. I smiled and returned it, before spinning on my heel and heading towards Walker's bar.

The inside of the building was the embodiment of a cliché bar, with stools all along the counter and several booths along the wall, and even a little stage at the end with a tattered sign reading 'Karaoke' on the wall. There were about a dozen or so customers in the bar, and along with the guy serving drinks, there were two waitresses wandering about. One of the waitresses looked to be in her late teens, and had hair as black as coal, so I knew instantly she wasn't the woman I was looking for.

The other woman was much older, with sandy blonde hair and dark circles under her eyes. She was presently serving a table of three, all men wearing high visibility jackets. They mostly just ignored her, not even glancing up to say thanks when she brought them their breakfasts.

I sat in the booth that was furthest from the door, and it was conveniently also within the eyesight of Harley and Sam's mother, whilst being at a bad angle for the younger girl to notice me.

Sure enough, a minute or so later, the older woman was by my table with a little notepad in her hand, which I noticed was trembling slightly.

"Hi, I'm Tracey. Can I get you anything?" Her voice was cheerful, but there was a gruffness to it that made it clear her throat was used to being abused by strong alcohol. So, that meant she didn't just drink - she drank _heavily._

I smiled up at her. "I'll just have some water for now, thanks. I'll let you know if I want anything else, though."

Tracey nodded and left without another word, and I watched her closely. Her whole body slouched slightly, and her feet seem to drag on the floor a little more. For whatever reason, this woman was slowly killing herself. I was determined to find out why.

* * *

Bucky was cold, he was hungry, he was exhausted, and had seen neither hair nor hide of another life form for almost seven hours. Having stowed away onto a plane headed for Kittilä Airport in Finland, he'd then proceeded to head due south, carefully avoiding any roads and Kittilä itself when he saw it ahead of him. Eventually he'd come across a river, and had started walking alongside it, knowing he would eventually find civilisation.

That had been three hours ago, and now night had long since fallen. All he could see around him was grass and trees and the deep blue river rushing by his feet. At this rate he would have to sleep in the forest, a possibility which didn't exactly fill him with joy. Still, he did at least have the small benefit of the fact that he was further south than he was a day ago, so it was significantly warmer than it had been in Norway.

He was just about to call it a night when he noticed there was a faint glow in the air around him. He paused, tensing when he noticed the light was moving. For a moment his mind slipped back into that of a hunter, but then his logical mind took over again. The chance of someone finding him in such a remote area was slim, and this light felt far too... natural.

Bucky's eyes slid skyward, and what had begun as a quick glance turned into open-mouthed staring.

Above his head, shimmering and dancing in a way that was nothing short of enchanting, were the Northern Lights, blazing in the silent sky. They moved in great swaying bands of colour like they were a living organism. The colours were utterly brilliant and pure, the vibrant shades locked in a perpetual motion, flowing, flickering and writhing. The sky seemed suddenly so much clearer, the stars glowing in perfect harmony with the coloured streaks that floated far above his head.

Bucky settled on the floor, his back leaning against the trunk of a thick tree, and felt each of his muscles relaxing as he continued to watch the marvel taking place above him. Even after his neck began to cramp up from being in the same position he continued to stare upward, wondering if Daphne had ever witnessed an event like this from the depths of space. He couldn't help but wish for the time when he could finally tell her just how aweing this moment was. Bucky glanced at the empty space beside him, and just for a moment he could imagine Daphne's voice in his head, as if she were there right next to him.

" _It's okay, sweetheart. Because soon the world will shine brighter for us_."

* * *

I hadn't spoken to Tracey any more, quietly standing and leaving once I'd finished the water she brought me. I went back to find Felix and take him for a walk - which ended up lasting about two hours longer than I'd expected - and then spent much of the afternoon creating myself a pair of targets from the things I found in Harley's workshop. Once that was done, I also dug around the house looking for makeup I could borrow to change my appearance. I decided on a pair of fake, black-framed glasses, dotted a few freckles onto my face, and then put my hair up into a messy bun.

A quick search on the calendar told me what time Harley and Sam finished school, so when 3pm came around I put Felix back on his leash and left the house, locking the door with a spare key I had found in one of the kitchen drawers (okay, yes, I was being nosy).

Felix was clearly still recovering from the walk earlier, so he remained by my side, completely calm. At least, that was until we showed up outside the schools. All the people around him made him suddenly very fidgety, and the moment he clapped eyes on Harley coming out of the doors, he tried to yank my arm off. Were I not a serum-enhanced human being, he probably would have succeeded.

When Harley saw us both his entire face flashed with surprise, his footsteps faltering for a second. Felix yipped happily, but my eyes were drawn elsewhere. A group of boys, all appearing to be the same age as Harley, were approaching the young boy like he was their favourite meal.

"Hi, Daphne!"

My gaze shifted downward as Sam popped up next to me, her hands automatically going to Felix's thick fur. He gave a low rumble of pleasure. "Hiya, Sam. How was school?"

Sam shrugged. "It was okay, I guess."

I glanced back up to see Harley was now completely surrounded. "Sam, could you keep an eye on Felix for me?"

Sam blinked. "Are you sure?"

I smiled down at her and nodded. "Yeah, I trust you." Slowly, Sam stretched out a hand, and I placed Felix's leash into her small palm. I turned to Felix and said sternly, "Stay." Felix huffed, but nonetheless sat down, then turned his head back towards Sam. The girl recognised the pleading expression on his face and began to gently stroke his head.

Satisfied the two were adequately distracted, I headed towards Harley and those other boys. They had started to attract quite the audience, and it honestly disgusted me that no one wanted to help. That was, at least, until a tall but thin boy with red hair rushed out from the crowds surrounding the group and actually _launched_ himself at the biggest of the bullies.

The boy was clearly startled, not expecting to be so openly attacked, especially by the scrawny kid who was yelling, "Leave him alone, leave him alone, leave him alone!"

The bully shoved the red-head off him, whirling around with a sneer on his face. "What you gonna do about it, weakling? Hit me with a stick?"

"I'll bloody your nose if I have to," the kid snapped back, raising his fists. I couldn't help but stand in complete motionlessness, my mouth slightly parted. It was like I was watching an almost perfect replay of the past.

The bullies laughed mockingly. "A four year old girl would do more damage than you, pipsqueak," another of the bullies mocked.

"Yeah? Try me," the red-head challenged, though I could tell now he was beginning to grow intimidated by the larger boys. I snapped out of my funk when the largest of them took a menacing step towards the boy.

The moment he drew his arm back to throw the first punch my hand snapped around his upper arm, stopping his fist six inches from the red haired boy's face. The bully's eyes, wide with shock, turned to face my own. I could feel the power of my glare almost physically making him curl in on himself. Even with fake freckles and glasses, apparently I could look terrifying. His fear quickly became bravado, and he scowled at me. "Let go of my arm!"

"Considering I expect your only intention is to use said arm to injure someone else, I don't think I will." My voice was as cold as ice, and I noticed that all of them - even Harley and the red haired boy - were affected by it. "Don't start something you can't finish, kid."

His scowl appeared again, and this time he tried to wrench his arm from my grip. "Is that a threat?" His voice was noticeably less confident this time.

"Just a good bit of life advice," I corrected, finally letting go of his arm. "If I hear of you going after either of these boys again, I'll make sure there are consequences, you understand that?"

He sniffed haughtily, then turned on his heel and left, his three goons following after him. I looked at Harley and the stranger, who wouldn't meet each other's eyes.

"Why did you help me?" Harley asked, and when I glanced his way again I knew he wasn't talking to me. While his gaze remained fixed on his shoes, his body was turned completely towards the other boy.

The red-head shrugged, being the first to look up. "I don't like bullies," he said simply, and I had to choke back a weird noise when I heard that. I bit my lip, fighting a grin as I realised I might have just witnessed the beginning of another Bucky-Steve brother-like relationship. "I don't care if they're twice my size."

"What's your name?" I asked.

The boy blinked up at me, his eyes showing he was clearly nervous. I smiled gently, trying to convey that I wasn't as cold a person as I had just shown. "Danny."

"Well, Danny, that was a good thing you did there," I said with a smile.

Danny shrugged one shoulder. "It's not like it helped much."

"Sometimes it's the thought alone that counts," I commented with a wink. "Can I tell you something?"

Danny blinked up at me. "Umm, sure, I guess."

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

Danny's face became suddenly serious. "Promise," he said firmly.

I glanced at Harley and noticed he was watching me with a puzzled look on his face. I grinned at him and then crouched down in front of Danny. "I know a guy who used to be like you. He didn't like bullies either, and every single time he saw one of them, he would be willing to get himself beaten up in order to get them to stop. Back then, he didn't have a lot of friends, I'll admit. He had one really good one, though, who stayed by his side through it all. That man, the one who hated bullies, just like you, is one of the greatest men who have ever lived. And it's no longer just me and his best friend who know - the whole world knows just how amazing he is now."

Danny's eyes were wide with wonder. "Who is he? Will I know him?"

I grinned and nodded. "Oh yeah, because I have this little inkling in the back of my head that makes me believe he might actually be a role model of yours."

Danny blinked, his eyes blowing up to the size of balloons. "Steve Rogers?" he whispered, eyes lighting up with hope and glee.

My grin widened. "Steve Rogers," I confirmed. "He was a scrawny kid back in the 30s and 40s, and then someone realised just how brilliant he was, and suddenly everyone could see it for themselves."

Danny frowned. "But you know him? Personally?"

I hummed. "Yeah, that man is essentially my brother-in-law."

Danny blinked. "What? How?"

"You know Bucky Barnes, his best friend?" Danny nodded, realisation appearing his eyes. "He's my husband." I winked at him again, then straightened up and turned to Harley, who was watching me like I'd grown another head. I just smiled at him. "Come on, Harley, let's go home."


	5. 5 - Shaky Foundations

**A/N: Hi again. So, here's the news - I have to go back to college tomorrow, and I've got my exams next week, so, while my usual updating time shouldn't be disrupted too much, a couple chapters may be a day or two later than normal. Hopefully you guys don't mind. :)**

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 **angelAnabiel: I'm expecting this one to be about 20 chapters long, but I haven't got it completely planned to the end yet, so we'll see. I'm trying to avoid putting too many spoilers for AoS in, however some are kind of unavoidable :/. Glad to hear you're liking it so far, though :)**

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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Haha, good. You most certainly shouldn't be ashamed. Glad to hear from you, and glad you're enjoying it :)**

* * *

 **5 - Shaky Foundations**

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief when noon the next day brought with it the first signs of life beside the thick green trees that had haunted him for almost eight hours of walking, not to mention the five or so hours he'd slept. While he'd gone longer without food in the past, he'd grown used to having three meals a day - usually large ones - and so not having eaten for almost 48 hours was draining him. However, without any money, he would have to resort to stealing - something he really wasn't all that thrilled about. Daphne had of course provided him with access to her copious bank account, but he didn't want to risk giving any authorities a way of tracking him, so he hadn't touched any of that money since the incident in Vancouver.

The place he had come across turned out to be a market town, and it was while Bucky was wandering in search of some food that he noticed something wasn't quite right.

In the corner of his eyes he spied two people dressed completely in black combat gear, guns tucked into subtle holsters. A quick glance around him confirmed they weren't the only ones - there were seven more pairs spread around the marketplace. Bucky clenched his jaw. At this rate he would never be able to stop moving, having to forego both food and sleep. He didn't want to fight, as that would only succeed in making him seem guilty of the crime that had been laid on him and his wife, but at this point he wasn't seeing a better alternative.

He noticed one of the Agents wandering his way, though clearly not having spotted him yet, so he made himself look busy by perusing a fruit stall. He tried to ignore the hunger pangs in his stomach when he eyed all the food in front of him.

When the woman drew closer, Bucky's attentive ears were able to eavesdrop on what she was saying. "I'm seeing no sign of him, sir. Are you sure this is the right place?" Bucky glanced at he in the corner of his eye, quickly assessing the short haired woman. She seemed healthy and agile, but his keen eye also detected she hadn't been an Agent for long. There was still a hint of softness in her figure. "Coulson, don't forget Ward used to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent. He's good at leaving false trails. There's every possibility this is one of them." Bucky felt some of the tension drain from his body when he realised these Agents likely weren't here for him. With that in mind he turned away from the fruit stall, starting to head past the woman and behaving like he belonged in this town. Her next sentence had him stopping dead, eyes widening. "And what makes you think Barnes has anything to do with this?"

Bucky didn't know whether she meant him or if she meant Daphne, but it didn't matter - either way, he wasn't happy. He turned back around and reached out his metal hand, grasping hold of the Agent's arm and dragging her quickly towards the nearest alleyway, ignoring her feeble struggles.

The moment the shadows of the buildings towering overhead covered them Bucky had the woman flat against a wall, his metal arm braced across her chest. "Who are you?" he snarled, right hand twitching toward the handgun he'd tucked into his jacket.

"I'm not here to hurt you," she said softly, clearly trying to pacify him. It didn't work. In fact, his response of applying more pressure to her ribs made it clear just how unsatisfied he was with that answer. "Coulson," she murmured, but Bucky snarled again, wordlessly warning her against speaking again. He knew he didn't have long before her colleagues noticed her absence.

"Who do you work for?" he tried again.

"S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Prove it."

The woman cautiously reached into her pocket, and while Bucky tensed initially in case she brought out a weapon, the small laminated card made him relax again ever so slightly. His eyes scanned the details, taking in her name and her specification. His eyes widened a fraction when he noticed she had been described as 'Inhuman' on the card.

Bucky's eyes slowly met hers, and she blinked at the sudden change in his expression.

"Is something wrong?" she asked warily.

"What does it mean by inhuman?"

The woman - Daisy, according to her badge - sighed, sagging slightly, and Bucky loosened his hold on her just enough to let her breathe normally. She didn't seem to notice. "An inhuman is someone with abilities of abnormal qualities," she recited, like she'd already done so many times before.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "So you're enhanced?"

The woman shook her head. "No, the enhanced gain their powers through experimentation. Inhumans have it from birth."

Bucky pursed his lips before drawing away from her and stepping a step back. Daisy sighed in relief. "What are you doing here?"

"We're looking for someone," she said. "A man who's trying to put Hydra back together again."

His eyes narrowed. "What does he look like?"

Daisy blinked. "Umm... Black, short hair. Tall. Usually has a 5'o'clock shadow. Wears a leather jacket almost all the time." Bucky cursed under his breath in Russian, flinching back a little further from her. Daisy's eyes widened. "Do you know where he is?"

Bucky hesitated, before admitting, "I saw him two days ago. Or at least, someone who matched that description exactly."

"Where?!"

"Vadso, in Norway," he replied. "I think he was after me, which is why I left. He's probably not there still."

"Regardless, it's a lead." She smiled at him. "Thanks." She then placed her finger to her ear, no doubt making sure her connection to her superior was still open. "Coulson, we've got a lead. Ward was in Norway two days ago." She paused, glancing hesitantly at Bucky as she listened to the man on the other end. She asked him, "Can I tell him you're here?" Once again the ex-Winter Soldier hesitated. But he trusted S.H.I.E.L.D., and there was something about this woman that settled his nerves a little. So he nodded. "Bucky Barnes," she told the man on the other end, whose name was one Bucky knew he would likely never forget. Daphne had told him an awful lot about Phil Coulson. "Yeah, he's standing right in front of me... Well, I convinced him otherwise... You want to what?... Why?... Um, sure, let me just ask." Daisy looked hesitantly at Bucky and said, "Coulson wants to talk to you. He wouldn't say why, he just asked me to give you my phone."

As she dug said phone out of her pocket, the device began to ring. Bucky took the phone cautiously, before answering and placing the device against his ear.

" _Sergeant Barnes?_ "

"I prefer not to go by that name anymore," he answered tonelessly. As much as Daphne trusted this man, he couldn't help but be wary.

" _What are you doing in Finland?_ "

"Hiding. Why else would I be here? It certainly isn't for the warm weather."

Coulson let out a dry chuckle, but Bucky could tell the man was still deadly serious. " _You say you saw Grant Ward?_ "

"I don't know who he was," Bucky admitted, glancing at Daisy again, who was watching him attentively. He could feel her curiosity practically radiating off her. "I think he was trying to trick me into showing myself though. He threatened Vera."

" _And you didn't take the bait?_ "

"No. I know she's as safe as she's going to be when every single one of the Avengers is looking after her."

" _Where are you going to go next? I know you're not going to stay there after you've been found, even it is by an ally_."

"Now why would I tell you that?" Bucky couldn't help the upturning of his lips as he replied.

Coulson chuckled again. " _Touché. But I want you to know that S.H.I.E.L.D. is aiding the Avengers in looking for evidence to prove your innocence_."

Bucky frowned. "Why?"

" _We picked up your wife a few days ago. She told us what happened, and we believed her. We dropped her off at her desired destination and now I've got one of the best looking through old security footage_."

Bucky's frown deepened. "I thought the cameras were destroyed in the blast."

" _The ones for the care home were, but the building next door has a camera that has a decent view of the site, which was relatively unharmed. If there's anything of use on there, we'll find it in the next few hours_."

"I appreciate the help."

Coulson hummed. " _You've got a family to think of. I can understand that, and even Fury thinks you two are worth the extra effort_."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Oh, gee, I'm thrilled."

Coulson's laugh rumbled through the phone again. " _He doesn't blame you for shooting him, you know. We all have our duties to perform_."

"I know that," Bucky muttered. "I still blame myself though, and that's what matters in the end."

Coulson hummed thoughtfully. " _I suppose you're right. Hey, can you do me a favour?_ "

"Depends on the favour."

" _Stay with Daisy for a while. It'll be a lot easier for us to contact you once we have the results of the footage perusal if you stay with one of our own_."

"On one condition."

" _And what is that?_ "

Bucky hesitated for a moment, before letting out a long breath. "From this point on, if something happens to Daphne, you find a way to tell me. And vice versa. As soon as this thing blows over, you can go back to ignoring us, but until then I want to be kept up to date with her well-being."

" _That's fine,_ " Coulson said without hesitation. " _Can I assume you'd still rather be ignorant as to where she is?_ "

Bucky found himself nodding subconsciously. "It's safer for everyone that way."

" _Okay, Mr Barnes, you've got yourself a deal. Don't wander off_." And then the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. hung up, causing Bucky to do the same before passing Daisy her phone back.

"Everything cool?" she asked, putting the phone back in her pocket and then zipping it into place.

Bucky nodded, letting out a long breath. "Yeah, although he wants me to stick around for a while so I'm close by when they have the camera footage."

Daisy smiled. "That's fine. But just warning you now, I'm curious sometimes, and I have a _lot_ of questions I want to ask you."

Chuckling, Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets. "As long as you don't push if I don't want to tell you anything, I'll answer your questions to the best of my ability."

Daisy beamed at him. "Great! Now come on - there's a café just around the corner and I'm seriously craving pancakes right now."

* * *

Tracey had come home that evening, but she'd only said a feeble hello to her kids before disappearing into her bedroom, not even noticing me sat calmly on the sofa with a book in my lap and a cup of tea in my hands. I had eyed her sadly, guessing that the only reason she was behaving like this was because her husband had upped and left. For some people having their significant other just leave broke them. I knew, if Bucky were to leave me, I would likely never recover from that. And maybe Tracey never would either, but I had to try to get her to stop neglecting her kids, because they were too young to be looking after themselves.

She hadn't seen me when she left the next morning either, though that time I was in the shower. Clearly believing it to be one of her kids, she had gone about her business as usual and was just closing the front door when I stepped into the kitchen. I didn't bother following her.

I threw together a quick breakfast, calling for Samantha and Harley to come and eat. They ambled down a minute or so later, both with their school bags in hand. They seemed surprised to already have a meal ready for them, obviously used to fending for themselves, and didn't stop thanking me for it for a good twenty minutes. Then, like the previous day, I walked with them to school. I let Felix come with us this time, handing his lead over to Samantha and her stupid puppy eyes. If there was one thing I couldn't resist, it was puppy eyes. I was tremendously grateful that Bucky had never tried to pull that, though that didn't mean no one else did. Steve had apparently recognised how effective they were, and used them on me more than should be legal. Nine times out of ten, I would cave because of those damn eyes.

I said goodbye to the two outside their schools, smiling to myself when Harley gave me a half-hearted wave over his shoulder. It was more than I had gotten yesterday. Felix seemed a little saddened to see them walking away, but he didn't try to follow them.

I was about to turn away when I noticed the little red haired boy, Danny, hovering by the wall with a nervous expression on his face. Making a quick decision, I walked over to him, Felix trotting along beside me. He didn't notice me until my shadow fell over him, and by that point I was perhaps two metres away from him. He jolted slightly when he saw me, smiling meekly.

"H-Hi, Mrs Barnes," he greeted shakily.

I smirked at him. "Hiya, Danny. What're you up to?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "Nothing," he mumbled. "I don't do anything in the morning."

My smirk faded away into a frown. "Why not?"

"I, uh... I don't really... have... friends."

"None at all?" I asked in surprise, finding it hard to belief that such a decent young boy didn't have any friends.

He shrugged again. "I don't really talk to anybody, so they just leave me alone." He blinked, suddenly adding, "That's fine, though. I'm okay with that. Really, I am."

I placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to ignore how he tensed up underneath me. He knew who and what I was, and was clearly suspicious of me. Sensible, I knew, but it still dampened my spirits slightly. Quickly shaking it off, I made sure to keep my voice honest and soothing to the best of my ability as I spoke again. "That's just a story you tell yourself to keep you from feeling scared, Danny." His eyes flashed with angry denial, and I tried quickly to dispel it. "I used to do the same thing - I kept myself out of the way, tried to ignore everyone around me. Then one day, I walked past an alleyway and saw a young woman getting ganged up on by four men. I went in and helped her; it didn't matter that I was outnumbered. I went in because it was the right thing to do." Danny blinked at me, his young mind immediately linking my story to his own. "You might not think about what you're doing before you do it, but that doesn't mean the person you helped out won't. It was a month before I saw her again, and she remembered exactly who I was. That kind of encounter doesn't just get forgotten, Danny-boy."

"What happened to her?"

I smiled. "She became a friend for life," I said proudly. "Agatha Kendall will always be one of the most important people in the world to me." I smiled at him again, pulling my hand off his shoulder and readjusting my hold of Felix's leash. He'd been behaving, but I could always tell when he was beginning to grow restless. I mindlessly scratched behind his ear to give him something to focus on. "What happened yesterday with Harley won't just blow over in a second. It'll stick. I can't make you do anything, but if I had to give you advice, I would tell you to find him and just say hello. That's it. Nothing else. Just a hello. You never know, you might find out that he'll be your Bucky Barnes."

Danny looked completely overwhelmed, but he bit his bottom lip and nodded. "Yeah, okay, I'll, um... I'll think about it. Thanks, Mrs B."

I grinned at him. "No problem, Danny-boy. And even if you don't talk to him, I'll tell you now he appreciates what you did. You're a good kid, Danny. Don't lose that." I winked at him, then gave Felix's leash a gentle tug and started heading back towards the Keener household.


	6. 6 - Proof

**A/N: Hi again! This one is a bit more eventful than the last couple have been. Bear with me, we'll get to the more gritty stuff in due time. Enjoy!**

 **Big thanks to Blue Phoenix 217 and Lennyfox101 for following/favouriting. :D**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Haha, thanks :) Your idea about Bucky and Daisy is interesting though**

 **Love. Fiction. 2016: :)))**

 **Lennyfox101: I'm glad you liked all the hint-dropping. It was a nightmare to find places where it worked. And working around the complications of time travel was even worse. I'm thrilled to hear it paid off, though. As of AoS, I'm trying to put as few spoilers in as possible, and you shouldn't really need to know anything. I think I explain anything you do _need_ to know, just in case some people don't know it already. If you're ever confused about anything, just let me know and I'll make sure to find a way to make it clearer. Unt guten abend, mein freund(in). (Note: please don't reply in German - I had to ask my brother what the word for 'friend' was to finish that sentence, and I'm still not completely sure I got it right). ;)**

* * *

 **6 - Proof**

You know that feeling you get sometimes when you see someone you don't really know do something amazing, and despite not knowing them you can't help but feel really proud of them anyway? The moment I saw Harley step out of school I felt that pride in both him and his new friend. Danny and Harley were laughing loudly, grinning from ear to ear and ignoring everyone else around. They ignored the sneers and startled looks of the people who didn't like them, and the disinterested faces of most of the others. They were in their own little world, and seemed perfectly happy there.

"Hi, Daphne!"

I turned and smiled over at Sam, who waved eagerly over the heads of a few taller kids. I grinned and waved back. "Hi, Sam, how was school?"

"It was great!" she said enthusiastically, shoving a piece of paper into my hand. "I got an A in math!"

I grinned at her, holding out a hand for her to slap, which she did cheerfully. "Nice one, Sammy!" I gave her a one-armed hug, returning the young girl's happy beam. "Tell you what," I said, "we'll have something special for dinner. What do you fancy?"

Sam shrugged. "Don't mind. Something nice."

I rolled my eyes, squeezing her a little tighter in jest. "Now that was a very helpful answer. Thanks, Sam."

She grinned at me, eyes twinkling mischievously. "You're welcome."

"Well, I don't claim to be the best cook around, but I make some pretty good burgers. How 'bout it?"

Samantha beamed. "Yeah!" she cheered. "I haven't had a burger in _ages!_ "

"In that case, it's burgers on the menu tonight." I patted her on the shoulder before turning back to Harley and Danny, who were now within only a few metres of where Sam and I were standing.

Danny grinned. "Hey, Mrs B," he greeted with a smile.

"Hiya, Danny-boy. Good day?"

"Oh yeah," he said with a laugh, his whole being seeming suddenly infused with energy. "Harley and I were partnered in chemistry."

Harley nodded. "Yeah, we were burning salts."

I chuckled. "Oh, I think I remember doing that in school. Was that the one where different salts burn in different colours?" They both nodded. "Yeah, I had a lot of fun with that one. Especially when one of the boys in my class caught a piece of paper on fire. Never heard a guy scream as high-pitched as that before or since." The three kids all laughed.

"Hey, Harley, guess what?" Sam said excitedly, and Harley turned patiently towards his younger sister. Sam grinned. "We're getting burgers tonight!"

Harley blinked. "Burgers?" he asked, looking back up at me.

I nodded. "Yep. Sam aced her maths test, so I thought I'd make burgers to celebrate."

"Haven't eaten a burger since I was eight," Harley mused, before grinning. "Sounds great." He turned to Danny. "Wanna come over?"

Danny blinked. "Oh, uh... I dunno. Can I?" His eyes shifted to me, and I shrugged.

"Fine by me. The more the merrier."

Danny smiled. "Then I'd love to. I'll just have to call my mom to let her know I'll be back late."

I nodded in understanding. "Sure thing, Danny-boy. We'll give you a minute." Danny walked off, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he did so.

* * *

Bucky honestly didn't know what to think of Daisy. They'd spent almost two hours in the little café eating pancakes (which she paid for because, of course, he had no money) and having a peculiar question and answer session, and in that time Bucky got a good read on the young woman. She acted like she had not a care in the world, and she seemed like the epitome of innocence were one not to pay close enough attention. But he'd noticed the darkness and sorrow in her eyes, he'd detected the weight she carried on her shoulders, and he wondered what could have possibly made her so sad. What could she have gone through that took away the innocence she should have still been carrying with her?

After those two hours Daisy got a message from Coulson, asking her to bring Bucky with her back to headquarters. Which meant going all the way back to America. Bucky's gut instinct had told him to say no, to walk away and go somewhere else. Estonia, maybe. Or perhaps all the way down to Poland.

He should have listened to his gut.

Upon arriving in New York, Bucky had felt his entire body go tense. He hadn't been here for over two months, and the last time he was here, Daphne had almost died. But beyond that, when he and Daisy walked into the S.H.I.E.L.D. building just off of Times Square, he realised just how stupid he had been.

The moment he stepped inside the building two dozen armed Agents rushed forward, pointing their guns at him. Bucky felt his arm click as it tried to lash out, but he kept it completely still. Blinking in surprise, Bucky noticed Daisy was stepping in front of him, her body language showing just how defensive of him she was. But he couldn't allow her to possibly get hurt because of him, so with a firm hand on her shoulder (that had a few of the Agents in front of him shouting in warning) he pulled her behind him again, using his larger frame as a barrier between the guns and the young Agent.

"Everybody, put your guns down."

Bucky shifted his gaze when Director Coulson stormed into the room, looking quite peeved with his Agents. They hesitated, but when he gave them a sharp look the Agents disarmed their guns and went about their business as if nothing had ever happened.

Bucky let his eyes scan the man in front of him. "You must be Phil Coulson," he said at length, accepting the hand the man held out for him to shake.

"I am indeed," Coulson responded with a half-smile. "Sorry to drag you out here like this, but Fitz found something we all think you'll want to see for yourself."

"Fitz?"

"Leo Fitz," Daisy explained with a grin as Coulson began leading the way through the facility. "He's one of our lead engineers," she explained, before lowering her voice. "And he's also a bit of a fan of you and Daphne, so try not to judge him too harshly if he gets a little tongue-tied."

Blinking in surprise, Bucky asked, "He's a... fan? Of us?"

Daisy nodded, grin widening at the stunned look on his face. "Oh yeah. At first it was mostly curiosity about your arm, but then everything in Sokovia happened. We all watched it happening on the news. When he saw you two fighting up there, he started to really admire you. Especially when Silverthorn allowed herself to get shot saving a kid."

"I still haven't really forgiven her for that," Bucky muttered, making both Daisy and Coulson snort in amusement.

"She's tough, your wife," Coulson commented idly. "Not much really bothers her."

Bucky nodded slowly. "That's right - you said you talked to her."

"Daphne made a phone call to Indonesia a few days ago," Coulson explained. "We managed to track the location of the call, and we found her in Virginia. About a week ago we picked up an ancient Asgardian weapon, but no one could really identify it. At least, not until Daphne got her hands on it. She recognised it immediately, and told us to never get it out."

"Why?"

"According to legend, the sword has a curse placed on it that means, whenever its drawn from its sheathe, someone has to die." Coulson sighed. "We've got it locked up for now, but we're hoping to send it back to Asgard the next time we get a visit from one of them."

Bucky smirked. "You know, you could always ask."

Coulson paused, turning around to face him. "What?"

"Asgard has a gatekeeper called Heimdall. If you ask him to send someone to pick it up, most likely he will."

"You want me to talk to someone I've never met before, can't see, and who I don't know for sure will even hear me?"

"Yes."

Coulson blinked. "So you want me to talk to the air?"

Bucky grinned. "Well, that's up to you. And for the record, Heimdall can see everything going on in the nine realms all at once. If you ask for him, he'll hear you."

"How do you know all this?" Daisy asked in astonishment.

Bucky blinked. "Wait, did Daphne not tell you?"

"Tell us what?"

The ex-Winter Soldier looked slowly between the two of them, noticing their perplexed faces. He huffed. "When Daphne was here, did she mention her file at all?"

Coulson nodded slowly. "She said to talk to Agent Hill about sending a copy over. I haven't had the chance to read it yet."

Bucky nodded. "Well, long story short, Daphne spent six decades living on Asgard. So she knows a lot about it, most of which she's told me about."

"Six decades?" Daisy repeated in surprise. "How old is she?"

Bucky chuckled. "That question is actually a lot more complicated than it sounds. You'll understand once you read her file. I'm not sure I have time to recount everything right now."

Coulson stepped to the side and let Bucky and Daisy enter what looked like a very technical lab space, where a man with untidy half-grown facial hair was working frantically at a computer.

"Fitz!" Daisy greeted with a grin, rushing towards him.

Fitz spun around with a smile and swept her into a brotherly hug, only to freeze over when his eyes found Bucky's. Bucky's attention shifted once more when a woman with dark hair and a severe expression on her face waltzed in, her eyes barely even skipping over him before landing on Coulson.

"Target's been located," she said. "Toronto."

Coulson nodded. "Give us ten minutes, then we need to be in the air."

She nodded sharply, before walking out again. Bucky couldn't help but send a wry grin towards Coulson. "Don't ever let Daphne meet that woman," he said semi-seriously. "It'd be a friendship that you'd begin to dread encountering, believe me."

"I don't really know what that means, but your advice is noted," Coulson muttered. Then he approached Fitz and Daisy, who were gathered around an advanced computer. "Fitz, show him what you found."

Fitz nodded, not meeting Bucky's gaze. "Right," he muttered, before a holographic image appeared above the computer. Bucky tensed when he saw the camera footage of him and Daphne playing out. As expected, the footage shorted as the building went up. "This is all we could get from the cameras in the care home," Fitz reported, before bringing up more footage alongside it. It showed the building from further away, showing the same moment. Bucky felt his hand clench into a fist as he watched Daphne's shock and sorrow and pain after the explosion happened. "It's a start," Fitz said, "but it's not conclusive enough evidence to send to the authorities to get your name cleared." Bucky nodded slowly, wondering why he'd been brought all this way if this was all they were going to show him. But Fitz answered that question before he had to ask it. "I was going through some of the earlier footage - just 'cause I was bored, really - when I saw... this." He brought up footage from the first camera, and it showed a man, tall but rather skinny, walking into the building with a large backpack. A few minutes later (which Fitz quickly skipped through), he came out without the bag, and he was talking on the phone. Fitz zoomed in the footage, pulling up lip-reading software, which quickly worked out what the man was saying.

 _Yeah, the bomb is in place, and I've added a few pieces of polonium to her personal sugar bowl. Should be noticeable in three weeks or so._

No one said a word, carefully watching the Winter Soldier as he tried to control his sudden boiling rage. The man on the screen had not only set the bomb that killed Agatha's entire family and forced him and his wife to go on the run, but he'd actually poisoned Agatha, making it necessary for everyone to see her in the first place.

"Who is he?" Bucky couldn't remember the last time his voice was so low and dangerous, didn't want to remember the last time he'd felt so close to the line between Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier. And the thing that concerned him most was that he didn't care. He didn't care he'd started to slip back into his old shoes. Maybe he would when this was over, but now, all he could think of was blood. He wanted that man's blood for what he did to Bucky's family, and he wanted the blood of whoever the man had been talking to as well.

"Joseph Coltrain," Coulson answered with a voice void of emotion. Bucky could still detect the caution there though, and he knew Coulson had recognised just how close to the edge Bucky had been pulled. "25 years old, born May 7th, 1990. Parents are Mary and George Coltrain."

"I know that name," Bucky murmured, frowning as he dug through his mind. "Coltrain," he added when he noticed the questioning expression on Coulson's face. "I recognise it. I don't..." He sucked in a breath when he realised why the name sounded so familiar, and then guilt came crushing down on him. "It's my fault," he muttered, gripping the edge of Fitz' computer tightly. "This is my fault."

"Why?" Daisy asked softly.

Bucky slowly lifted his gaze to meet her, and she was stunned by the heartbroken expression on his face. "In 1994 I was ordered to kill a man called Jack Monroe. He mainly targeted drug dealers and took a lot of them out over the years, but since Hydra used to make a lot of money through the drug business, they saw him as a threat. So I was ordered to kill him."

"I don't understand," Fitz murmured, twitching slightly when Bucky's eyes swivelled to him. "What does he have to do with any of this?"

"Jack Monroe had a sister called Jill Coltrain," Bucky said lowly. "In 1966, she gave birth to an illegitimate son called George. He took on his mother's surname."

"You think this man is after you because you killed one of his family members?" Daisy asked.

Bucky sighed. "My past was always gonna catch up with me eventually. I just hoped I'd have a little more time before it did."

"We'll sort this out," Coulson said firmly, the determination on his face causing hope to flair in Bucky's chest for a moment. "We know where he is, and we're going to find out who he was working with. If all goes well, you'll be back with your family by the end of the week."

"Where?" Bucky asked, his voice slipping back into how it was before, feeling that anger bubbling away in the pit of his stomach again.

Coulson smirked. "Toronto."


	7. 7 - Backup

**A/N: Yeah, this one is a little later than normal. Sorry about that - had an exam yesterday (and today, hence why it's almost 11pm as I'm posting this). Hope you enjoy it!**

 **Big thanks to RedHotChilliStepper2008 and kate. ramirez817 for favouriting/following.**

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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Yeah, I haven't had a burger in over a year...**

 **Love. Fiction. 2016: Thanks! :P**

* * *

 **7 - Backup**

I was just taking a large batch of burgers out of the pan when the front door opened, and in stepped Tracey Keener. She looked utterly exhausted, but I was glad to see she also appeared to be sober.

Unfortunately for me, that meant I had no way of convincing her to let me stay. With a completely rational mind, she was more likely to panic. I was okay for now though, as she walked right past the kitchen without seeing me, or even really registering the smell of meat wafting around the house.

I put together a few burgers and then put them on a large plate, before bringing five others into the dining room. Harley, Danny and Sam were already seated, talking to one another like they'd known each other their entire lives, rather than just a few hours.

"Okay, guys, bon appétit!" I said grandly, placing the burgers in the middle of the table and then handing everyone a plate.

"Thanks, Mrs B!" Danny said eagerly, accepting a plate and a burger from Harley.

"Yeah, thanks, Daphne!" Sam said with a grin, already having taken an impressive bite from her burger.

Harley nodded, too eager to start to truly say anything. I rolled my eyes fondly before cautiously making my way towards Tracey's room. I knocked on the door. "Mrs Keener?"

There was a tense silence, before I heard her footsteps approaching the door just a second or so before it was flung open. Her eyes narrowed at me. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been staying here a few days," I admitted. "I've made food, if you'd like some."

Tracey's stance broadened, and she folded her arms over her chest. I didn't need all my years of experience to notice the aggression coming off her in waves. "You've been staying here? Why?"

"I had nowhere else to go, and Harley invited me in." I figured honesty was my best option here, and besides, a lie at this point would only serve to hinder me later. "I've been taking care of things here as much as I can to make up for it. Harley's got a friend over tonight, so I made burgers."

Tracey faltered, her eyes softening slightly. "Harley's... brought a friend over?"

I nodded. "Yeah, his name's Danny. They met yesterday, after Danny jumped on a bully's back to make him leave Harley alone."

Tracey blinked slowly. "A bully?" she echoed.

"From what I can gather, it's been going on for a while," I muttered.

Pain flashed across Tracey's eyes. "Why would he tell _you?_ " she asked, and I took half a step back at the brutality of the question. "I'm his mother. Why would he tell you and not me?"

"With all due respect, in the entire time I've been here, this is only the second time you've been home, and not once have you payed any attention to either of your kids. I'm not surprised he hasn't told you. Or maybe he has, and you just haven't bothered to listen."

Tracey's face darkened considerably. "How dare you-?!"

"I may not be their mother," I cut in sharply, "but right now I don't think you can claim that title either. I appreciate that you're hurt, and you're coping with it in the only way you know how, but these kids are having to raise themselves. Harley's been looking after Sam pretty much since she was born. That's supposed to be _your_ job, not his. These two barely have enough to survive, let alone to have the childhood they deserve."

"What do you know?" Tracey snapped, her hand gripping the door tightly enough for her fingers to go completely white. "You know nothing about what it's like to be through what I have!"

I cocked an eyebrow, trying to ignore the irritation and anger rolling through my blood. "Don't I?" I asked lowly, and Tracey paled slightly at the venom in my tone. "I was ripped from my brother and parents when I was sixteen. My best friend died when I was nineteen. Last year, I got separated from my husband and spent longer than you could imagine waiting for the moment when I could see him again." My voice grew colder, harsher. Tracey now looked positively terrified. "Two months ago I was forced away from my two month old daughter, the day after my brother-in-law's birthday, having just watched my oldest friend, my two godsons, and the rest of her family burn to death. So don't you _dare_ presume you know _anything_ about what I've been through." I narrowed my eyes at her, before turning on my heel and heading towards the room I'd been using for a few days. I grabbed all my things and shoved them back in my bag, before picking up my phone and Felix's leash. The dog was sat by the dining table, his tongue lolling to the side as he stared up at Sam, who was apparently enjoying her food too much to notice him.

"Daphne, what's wrong?" Danny asked, noticing my sour expression immediately.

"I'm leaving," I replied curtly, fastening Felix's lead in place. He whined softly at me, detecting (as always) that I was upset. "I'm not welcome here." I grabbed a Post-It from the wall and wrote down the number of my new phone, before handing it to Harley. "If you ever need to talk, or if you ever want help with anything, give me a call. Day or night. Got it?"

Harley nodded solemnly, pocketing the paper. Sam jumped off her seat and ran towards me, wrapping her arms around my torso. "Why do you have to leave?"

I sighed. "I got into an argument with your mother. Besides, I was never planning on staying here long. I have to keep moving in order to keep people off my scent. The longer I'm here, the greater danger every single one of us is in. As much as I wish I could stay, I know that I can't. I'm keeping you guys safe."

"But you only just arrived," Harley murmured in confusion, though I noticed there was a little sadness in his voice as well (which he was clearly trying to hide).

I nodded. "It's the life I have to lead," I told him. "Things just work this way, and I don't think I can change that. I wish I could, but things are the way they are for a reason."

"Do you have somewhere to go?" Danny asked quietly.

I hesitated. "I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe. If I'm careful, I might be able to-" I was cut off by the sound of my phone ringing. Raising an eyebrow, I pulled it out of my pocket and answered. "Speak of the Devil and he shall call. What's up, Coulson?"

" _We've found one of the people who blew up the building_."

My whole body froze over, my gaze hardening and my grip on Felix's lead tightening. "Tell me where."

" _We're on our way to you right now_."

"Why?"

" _Because those were our orders. 'Pick up Daphne first'_."

For a moment, I felt my heart swell in my chest. "Whose orders?"

Coulson scoffed. " _Who do you think?_ "

I could feel a grin lighting up my face. "Send him to meet me."

" _I really don't think-_ "

"Do it, Coulson, please. Just give us five minutes."

Coulson sighed on the other end of the phone. " _Fine. We'll be in the area in ten, exactly where we dropped you off. Five minutes, okay? We don't have any time to waste_."

I found myself nodding subconsciously. "Yeah, deal. See you in a few." I hung up and turned to the kids in the room with me and grinned at them. "So do any of you guys wanna meet my husband?"

Their eyes widened, Danny's more than the others. "Are you kidding?" he asked with a gleeful grin. "Yeah!"

"Then let's go," I said, passing Sam Felix's lead. "We have to be quick, though, okay?"

They all nodded again, and after grabbing my bag I led the way out the door. The three kids walked a few feet behind me, whispering to one another in a sense of frenzied excitement.

When I saw the S.H.I.E.L.D. quinjet above my head, landing where we were heading, I grasped the strap of my bag a little tighter and then starting running forward, Harley, Sam and Danny shouting in surprise and protest as they tried (and desperately failed) to keep up with me.

When I had almost reached the quinjet I dumped my bag on the floor and sped up, a grin splitting my face when I saw Bucky striding out of the jet, not even waiting for the ramp to be fully lowered before he was moving to meet me. I threw myself at him, my legs wrapping themselves around his waist as I buried my face in his hair. I was immediately hit by the warmth of his body, by the contrasting coldness of his metal arm, and the ever-so-distinctive scent of my Bucky.

"Gods, I've missed you," he breathed, his own face nestled in the crook of my neck. "And I thought a week was bad."

I laughed, planting a kiss on his head before lowering my legs back to the floor. I beamed up it him. "I'm just glad I didn't have to wait 77 years this time."

He chuckled, before his eyes slipped over my shoulder. He then raised an eyebrow at me. "You haven't been picking up strays, have you?" he asked me dryly.

I rolled my eyes, smacking his arm playfully. "Of course not. They've been letting me live with them for a few days. And I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

"You'll see what I mean. Now come on - I promised them they'd get to meet you. Besides, if we wait any longer Felix is gonna be breaking bones trying to get to you."

Shaking his head at me, Bucky took my hand and started to pull me back towards the kids, who were stood awkwardly by my bag of things.

The moment he got within reach, Felix leapt at Bucky, huffing loudly and trying to licking his face when Bucky crouched down to greet him. I was kind of glad Felix wasn't barking, as that would be drawing more attention to us than was necessary. Still, Felix's tail was wagging so violently I feared it'd fly off. In fact, his whole body seemed to be utterly hyperactive.

"Whoa, okay, okay," Bucky said with a laugh, battling Felix's face away from his. "Yeah, I missed you too, buddy." He patted Felix's head a few times, then grabbed hold of his leash to stop him running off and straightened. He turned to the kids. "Hi," he greeted casually.

"Bucky, these are Harley, Danny, and Samantha. Guys, this is Bucky Barnes, my husband."

"Wow," Danny breathed, before clapping his hand over his mouth with a look of horror on his face. Bucky chuckled good-naturedly. "Sorry," the red haired boy said quickly. "Daphne said who you were and that you were coming, but seeing you in the flesh is a bit of a different story."

"It's alright," Bucky said with a crooked grin that seemed to immediately set Danny's nerves at ease. "Steve was the same the first time I met him."

I snorted. "I can imagine that. That's not the best bit, though."

Bucky sent me a questioning look. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Tell them how you two met."

"Oh, do we have to?" Harley complained, face flushing slightly.

I rolled my eyes. "He's not gonna judge you, if that's what you're worried about this. He's already lived through all of this, remember?"

Harley sighed, but Danny seemed all too eager to tell the story to the honorary brother of his idol. "He was getting bullied and I intervened."

"Intervened?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow at the ridiculously simplified version of the story. "You literally jumped on the bully's back to distract him from Harley."

"Oh my God," Bucky murmured, before laughing. "I see what you mean," he said to me.

"That's just the beginning," I told him with a grin. "Once you get to know him a little better, you realise the similarities kind of just... don't stop."

"Similarities?"

I nodded at Danny, whose face was scrunched up in confusion. "Yeah. Remember when we first met, I told you that you reminded me of Steve Rogers?"

"Yeah..."

"She wasn't remotely lying," Bucky stated calmly, grinning at the kid, who flushed with pride. "I've known that punk since I was ten years old, and believe me, I know him better than anyone. I'm seeing a hell of a lot of his characteristics in you, and I've only been talking to you for a couple minutes."

"Speaking of which, we really should be going," I said, picking up my bag and shouldering it swiftly. "Coulson only gave us five minutes." I turned back to the kids, who were looking a little saddened. "I'll come back," I promised them. "And hey, who knows? Maybe I'll bring Steve and Tony with me next time." They all grinned at that, so I sent them a wink. "Look after each other, and keep an eye on Tracey. Try to force yourselves back into her life if you have to. Maybe then she'll realise how much she's been missing." Harley and Danny nodded, but Sam just approached me and wrapped her arms around my torso again.

I blinked in surprise, but returned the hug anyway. "Thanks for visiting, Daphne," Sam said, looking up at me with her chin resting on my stomach. "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'm gonna miss you too, Sammy," I said, messing up her hair with a fond grin. "But I'll come back, I promise you that. And I always keep my promises." I bent down and planted a kiss on her head, before turning back to Bucky as the nine year old let go of me and went back to her brother, who wrapped a reassuring arm around her shoulders. "Let's go," I said to my husband, and he nodded. We turned back to the quinjet, walking up the ramp and giving the three kids one last wave before the plane took off.


	8. 8 - Stories

**A/N: Exams are over! Yus! Things should be going back to normal now. :) Hope you enjoy, as usual!**

 **Big thanks to winter368 for following :)))  
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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: I guess you'll find out. Glad you enjoyed it! :)**

* * *

 **8 - Stories**

Inside the jet were seven people, excluding Bucky and I. A few I vaguely recognised from my oldest memories, but there were three who were strangers to me. A woman I knew to be Agent May was flying the plane, which, based on what I could remember, was a fairly common occurrence.

"Wow," I drawled dryly as I dumped my bag on the floor. "Wasn't expecting a welcoming party."

"Don't worry," Coulson said with a small grin, "there's an even bigger one back in New York."

I blinked. "Why are we going there?"

"Headquarters," he answered simply. "But actually, we're going to Toronto first. That's where he went."

"The one who blew up the care home?"

"The one who planted the bomb," Coulson corrected. "Based on the camera footage we've managed to acquire, he wasn't working alone. We plan on extracting the name of his partner (or partners) when we find him."

I glanced at Bucky, taking note of the stone-like expression he'd adopted. When he met my eyes, I knew he was seeing the same thing reflected back at him. "How long?"

"An hour and a half, at most," May called up from the front.

"Right," Coulson said, glancing around at everyone, seeing them staring at him in anticipation. "Introductions." I raised an eyebrow at him, but nonetheless allowed him to continue. "Designated driver - Melinda May. Resident engineer and tech guru - Leo Fitz. That's Daisy Johnson, she's an Inhuman. The others are Lance Hunter, Al Mackenzie (we call him Mac), and Bobbi Morse. They're our main field Agents. Everyone, I'm sure that she needs no introduction but I'll do it anyway; this is Daphne Barnes, also known as Silverthorn."

"Information overload," I muttered to Bucky, who chuckled. "Okay," I said, "I think I got it all, but don't be surprised if I start calling you something completely wrong. Just go with it." They exchanged bemused looks, but nodded. I turned back to Coulson. "Any luck with Tyrfing yet?"

"Funnily enough, contacting Asgard isn't that easy."

"Sure it is," I protested, frowning. "Just ask. Heimdall's always listening."

"He and I have already had this discussion," Bucky noted, folding his arms over his chest in an 'I told you so' kind of gesture that was pointedly directed at Coulson.

I shrugged. "Well, he's only human."

"So are you," Coulson pointed out.

"Barely," I shot back.

Bucky scoffed. "Speak for yourself," he grumbled. "I personally think myself to be very human, thank you very much." I shot him a wink, and the smirk on his lips told me he was also only kidding around.

My smile faded slightly, and I asked my husband quietly, "Any news on Vera?"

He shook his head. "I haven't had the opportunity to ask," he admitted. "I'm sure she's fine. She's got a better security system than the U.S. government."

I chuckled. "That's true, I suppose."

"How old is she now?"

I glanced up, seeing Fitz fiddling nervously with his sleeve even as his eyes shone with avid curiosity. "Four months, just about," I answered. "I reckon she'll be starting to crawl soon."

"Maybe she already is," Bucky mused. "She always was oddly strong for her age."

"Or maybe not so odd, if you think about you guys," Fitz pointed out with a grin.

"I just hope she doesn't turn out like her mother."

I let out a noise of protest, smacking Bucky on the chest. "That's rude. I'm an absolute delight!"

"You weren't when you were pregnant," he countered, raising an eyebrow.

I sniffed, shaking my head. "I was being attacked by outrageous hormones. I had no control over my actions."

Fitz looked between us in amusement, then asked, "What did she do?"

"So many things," Bucky said with a grin. "For example, about six months into the pregnancy she threw a Bible at my head when I told her I'd never watched Sherlock before." I shrugged sheepishly, not denying it. In fairness though, I'd probably do that even if I wasn't pregnant. Not that I'd _ever_ tell _him_ that. "It then took me almost five hours to convince her I wasn't mad at her for it."

"How long was it before you'd watched all three seasons?"

"We were done by the end of the very next day, even with all the bathroom and ice cream breaks."

"I had a tiny human being pressing on my bladder!" I protested, even though I was actually enjoying this conversation. I had the excuse that I was pregnant at the time to back me up, so hearing about my actions was rather amusing. "I'd like to see you do better in my shoes."

Bucky looked absolutely terrified by the thought. "No thanks, I think I'll go without."

I grinned at him, winking at Fitz when I caught sight of his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Although," I added with a smile, "I have to admit I can't argue about the ice cream breaks. Those were absolutely necessary."

"Especially after the week 19 meltdown."

"Oh my God!" I cried, my eyes moving to glare at Felix, who was staring innocently back at me from his place on the floor. "That evil dog!"

"What happened?" Daisy asked, and it was only then that I realised everyone else on the jet was looking extremely entertained by this conversation.

I let out a long sigh, before grudgingly telling them, "I had a sobbing, weeping meltdown because Felix peed on my last clean pair of comfortable, stretchy trousers and I was forced to put on maternity jeans. Bucky had to listen to me sob on his shoulder for a solid five minutes before I gained enough composure to explain why I was even crying in the first place."

"And then of course there was the day you made that old lady cry."

I groaned into my hands. "I'm still mortified by that," I grumbled.

Bucky grinned at me, before turning back to the others. "When she was about seven months in, whenever we went out people would ask her when she was due. Well, one day she completely lost it when this little old lady asked her that very same question. Daphne very promptly told her that she was not pregnant and would appreciate it if she minded her own business. Anyway, this poor woman started bawling hysterically in front of everyone and apologising over and over."

"I felt horrible," I said, picking up the story. "I apologised profusely and told her I was just having a bad day. When I did, she stopped sobbing and just stared at me. Then she called me an asshole - this woman was like seventy years old, let's not forget - and told me that of course she knew, because I was as wide as her house. Bucky didn't stop laughing for ten minutes straight, and he _still_ hasn't let it drop."

Everyone in the jet laughed along to that, except May and Coulson, who both just grinned instead. I winked at Bucky, and he smirked in return, wrapping an arm around my waist as everyone finally calmed down and then settled into their own conversations.

When I was sure no one was looking, I turned to Bucky. "I haven't seen you since July and I still haven't kissed you yet."

He cocked an eyebrow at me and then adopted a completely serious expression. "You're quite right. How appalling of us both." And then he ducked his head down and sealed his lips against mine, and I knew there and then that I would never let go of him again. Logic or not, I wasn't letting my Bucky Barnes go off on his own.

* * *

Daphne and Bucky were gathered with the rest of the team in the quinjet as Daisy showed them a detailed blueprint and street map of the building they were heading forward.

"The Old City Hall has a clock tower that is inaccessible to the public all the way to the top," Daisy explained. "However, from what we can tell, and what satellite imaging has told us, Joey Coltrain has holed himself up at the very top of the tower, behind the clock faces."

"Up there he'll be isolated," Coulson put in, "however it stands to reason he'll have some sort of escape route planned. So, Daisy and I will head up to his hiding spot through the tower. If he decides to make an escape - which, given the circumstances, he probably will - chances are he'll end up on Queen Street West, where I want Bucky and Daphne to be posted. In case something changes, I want May and Bobbi on Bay Street. Hunter, you take James Street, and Mac, I want you on Albert Street. Got it?" Everyone nodded. "Good. Now, we want to cause as little panic as possible, so discretion is preferred. And, of course, no guns. Fitz, I want you to stay with the jet. Daisy will hack you into local security cameras. If by some miracle he manages to give us the slip, we'll need you to track which direction he's going and try to find us a faster route so we can cut him off."

"Got it," Fitz said firmly, and Coulson gave him a curt nod.

"Great, then we're ready to go," he said, before heading over to box and picking out a few peculiar looking guns. "ICERs," he explained at the sight of Daphne and Bucky's equally perplexed expressions, though they both took the weapons without complaint. "They'll knock a target out for a good few hours. Only use it if you must."

Daphne nodded. "Yeah, having a guy collapse in the middle of the street isn't exactly subtle, is it?"

"Good, you picked up on that part. That makes one of you."

Daphne chuckled. "I'm guessing subtlety isn't high up on the popularity list with this group."

"It's not very fun," Hunter mused.

Bucky scoffed, causing everyone (except Daphne) to look at him in surprise. "Are you kidding?" he asked, putting the ICER into the holster on his belt. "The element of surprise is what makes it better. You get to relish in the expression of shock on their faces."

"We're landing in five," May reported, moving back into the pilot seat and taking over the controls. "Closest place we can land is Mugg's Island, so we'll need a boat."

"Well, we could always swim," Daphne offered, smirking as everyone else just shot her a look. She rolled her eyes. "Hey, it's an option."

Coulson shook his head. "Let's try to avoid that, if we can. Daisy, can you get us a boat for when we land?"

Daisy nodded, turning her laptop around and typing away so fast her fingers were almost a blur. Daphne raised an impressed eyebrow at her, before turning to Bucky. "You okay?" she asked, tucking her ICER into her waistband, not having a combat belt like Bucky did.

He nodded, smiling softly. "Always. And you?"

Daphne smiled in return. "Yeah," she murmured. "I'm good."

"Just think," Bucky mused, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him, "in just a few days' time we could be able to go back home. See Vera. See Steve and Natasha. See Pietro and Wanda. See Kaia. See everyone."

Letting out a longing sigh through her nose, Daphne rested her head on Bucky's chest and then hummed. "I'd like that," she murmured. "I'd like that a lot."

* * *

"We _'ve got eyes on the target,_ " Coulson reported, Bucky and I listening intently as we waited in the street opposite the Old City Hall, pretending to be tourists. Night was still very much in place, leaving the street mercifully calm, though hardly empty. " _Everyone in position?_ "

"Yup."

" _Confirmed._ "

" _Ready when you are, boss._ "

" _You did say James Street, right?_ "

I exchanged a look with my husband, who quirked his lips at me in amusement at Hunter, before he wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we stared up at the stone war memorial sitting in the area in front of the building. Despite the fact the whole 'tourist' thing was fake, I still silently paid my respects to the people who gave their lives from this area. I knew personally what they'd been through before their deaths, and they deserved respect.

" _Target's on the move. Bucky, Daphne, he's heading your way._ "

"On it," Bucky said sharply, moving towards the clock tower, where a speck of a man in black clothing could be seen abseiling down the tower. Bucky glanced back at me and nodded, and I turned down Bay Street at a casual walking pace, before heading along Richmond Street West. I moved carefully, taking extra care not to knock into anyone and draw attention my way. " _Daphne, he's moving east. Move to intercept, now_."

I started jogging along the road, picking up speed until I was running at a fairly fast, but not inhuman, pace. I swerved to the left, along the next road, and then circled back onto Queen Street West. The man was heading towards me, only for his eyes to clap on mine and for him to suddenly change direction, fear and recognition sparking in his eyes the moment before he turned away. I decided to forego subtlety and kicked myself into my highest gear, running probably around three times as fast as him. I caught up with him in seconds, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him back.

"Try to escape, and I'll use a little more force next time," I hissed in his ear, before escorting him back toward Bucky, who slapped a drug patch onto the man's neck. Fitz had produced them just before we left, telling us that the patches were designed to make the consumer delirious. It acted within seconds, and Bucky and I hoisted the man's arms over our shoulders, making it look like he were dragging a friend back home after a long night of drinking. No one spared us a second glance.


	9. 9 - Bambi And Stoo

**A/N: Usually it's at this point that I explain why I posted later than normal. I have to admit that, this time, I don't have an excuse beyond the fact I genuinely didn't realise so much time had passed since I last updated this. Sorry. Hopefully you'll enjoy it though!**

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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Not sure I've ever heard some ask to witness someone's raging pregnancy hormones, but alright... Each to their own, I guess. As for the other bit, I'm not saying. Maybe. Maybe not. You'll just have to wait an see.**

* * *

 **9 - Bambi and Stoo**

Joseph Coltrain was kept under relatively light sedation for the journey back to New York, and while Bobbi kept a very close eye on him, Bucky and Daphne were kept as far away from him as possible. Neither of them were feeling any especially violent urges towards the man, but they could understand Coulson's caution. He had, after all, played a part in the murder of dozens of people, not least of all the Barnes' personal friends. So the two of them stood to the side with Daisy and Fitz, keeping them entertained with stories of their marriage and their various friendships over the years, and the two Agents returned the favour once they ran out of ideas. While Daphne knew a lot of it from her time in her first world, they provided extra information between the end of her knowledge span and the present time, catching her up on everything that had happened with the other Inhumans.

About three-quarters of an hour before the plane was due to land, Coulson's phone went off in his pocket, playing a song that Daphne knew better than most, due to the fact she knew how to play it on the guitar. Bucky and Daphne exchanged looks of amusement, him clearly having the same thought as her.

"I miss my guitar," she murmured to him, leaning her head on his shoulder and sighing softly when his metal arm automatically wrapped itself around her waist, tugging her flush against his side.

"Which one?" he asked teasingly.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, you know that doesn't matter," she retorted with a lopsided grin. "Any old thing will do."

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I know. I'm still kinda surprised you didn't take one with you."

"And risk it getting lost or damaged? No, thank you, I think I'd rather go without."

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. "It's hardly like you don't have enough money to pay for a replacement."

She shook her head. "That's not the problem. I've had most of those guitars for years; they have a lot of sentimental value to me."

Bucky nodded his head slowly. "Well, I guess that explains while half of them are in the basement." Daphne winked at him, then pulled away from him, sliding into the co-pilot chair and striking up a casual conversation with Agent May. Bucky had been right in his preliminary assumptions - the two could go from conversation to conversation like they'd known each other for years, with no awkward silences or pauses; simply flowing from one to the next without thought. Daphne had a peculiar ability to bond with most people, but he knew this particular friendship was triggered by her many similarities with May.

He distantly heard Coulson hanging up the phone, and turned to the Director with a serious expression on his face. "Do you think you can clear a training room in time for us to arrive?"

Coulson stared at him in confusion. "Why would I do that?"

Bucky glanced over at Daphne, laughing and smiling with a smirking Melinda May, and his gut twisted slightly. "For Daphne. She needs to let off some steam."

"What?" Coulson's frown deepened. "Why would she need to let off steam? She looks perfectly happy to me."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed, "she does." He sighed. "Look, I've known that woman for most of my life, and she gets hit _hard_ by having to split from people she loves. Harder than I do, and believe me when I say this whole thing is _killing_ me on the inside. Daphne's very good at hiding it, maybe even from herself, but I can tell that she's bottling up all the bad stuff inside her. I think a sparring match will help to get that out of her system, but if there's anyone inside other than me..."

Coulson nodded in understanding. "They might become a genuine target," he concluded. "I can get a room clear. Try not to get hurt, either of you."

Bucky sent the man a crooked grin. "I can't promise that," he said. "But, at the very least, it'll be an interesting fight. I haven't fought against her since before she went to Asgard. Before then, I would beat her in a sparring round pretty much every time. Now it's anyone's guess as to who will win."

"Just try not to break anything," Coulson muttered, amused.

Bucky's grin widened. "Then don't leave anything breakable lying around," he shot back. He then turned to walk away, only to pause and face Coulson again. "Actually," he mused, "I think I have an even better idea."

* * *

Daphne looked around her, frowning when she noticed that May was lowering the quinjet to the ground, even though the cityscape of New York could only barely be seen in the distance. Coulson had approached May and murmured lowly in her ear several minutes earlier, no doubt informing the woman of their new landing point, but Daphne had no idea what that would mean for them. They still had Coltrain on board, after all, and they _really_ needed to get him back to HQ to be questioned.

"Where are we?" she asked the Agent as the jet landed on the ground with a gentle bump.

May shrugged. "Some kind of farmhouse. Not sure why, but Coulson said it was important we landed here before going back to headquarters."

"Wait, wait, wait..." Daphne blinked, glancing suspiciously over her shoulder at Bucky, who was sat on his own scratching a very happy-looking dog behind the ears. She then looked out the windscreen, carefully eyeing the trees and long grass surrounding the plane. "A farmhouse, you said?"

"Yes," May said, glancing at the older woman upon hearing her tone. "Why?"

But Daphne ignored her, getting out of the seat and heading towards her husband, who looked up and smiled at her when he noticed her approaching. "What are we doing here?" Daphne hissed at him, in no mood to return the smile.

Bucky just rolled his eyes. "No need to act so defensive. There's just a few things I need to get sorted before we can head to the city. Besides, there's a possibility that some of our friends are here, and I think we both want to see them again after so long."

"Bucky, you just gave away the location of our home to a bunch of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents," Daphne murmured lowly, narrowing her eyes. "The whole point of this place was so we were kept _away_ from the eyes of organisations like this."

Bucky sighed, standing up and taking Daphne's hands in his own, tightening his grip when she weakly tried to tug them away. "Daphne, listen to me." Daphne slowly stopped struggling, letting out a long breath, and then lifted her eyes to his. Bucky dared to take another step forwards, leaning his head down so his forehead was pressed against hers. "These people are trying to give us our lives back," he murmured. "And I _know_ you trust them even more than I do. It's safe to do this - I'm sure they won't come here often. Or ever, unless they truly have need. Trust me. Please?"

Daphne sighed again, moving so she could pull him into a hug, her head resting on his shoulder. Bucky didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her. "Always," she whispered. "Just _warn_ me next time."

Bucky chuckled, leaning back and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes, ma'am," he murmured in return, before planting a lingering kiss on her forehead and pulling away only as the jet door opened. Then, with his hand still cradling hers, he pulled her towards their house, letting the curious S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents file out behind them, taking in their surroundings with confusion. Besides Coulson, none of them knew where they were, as neither he nor Bucky had deemed it necessary to inform them of their new destination.

Daisy noticed Bucky and Daphne walking towards the house like they'd done so a thousand times, and then realisation struck her. Her eyes widened, her jaw fell, and she whirled on Coulson. "This is where they _live?!_ " she squeaked.

Coulson just blinked at her. "Yes."

Daisy beamed at him, looking around her again. "Oh my God, it's so beautiful! Look at this place!"

"Very much the American dream," Hunter pointed out, looking slightly less pleased to be here.

"Like you'd know!" Bucky called over his shoulder, grinning at the Brit. "You're not even American!"

"Neither's your wife, mate!" Hunter shouted back.

Bucky just laughed and retorted teasingly, "I'm not even sure she's properly British, either." Daphne immediately smacked him on the chest.

"Don't push it," she hissed mock-sternly, only to smile when he just winked at her. "So where exactly are you dragging me?"

"Training room."

"Why?"

"Because I haven't sparred with you for months and I'm feeling a little restless," he told her, glad he didn't have to lie to her whilst keeping his true reasoning a secret. Daphne would _flip_ if she knew what his true intentions were, claiming she was perfectly fine _thank you very much_. "Besides, you're a little more durable than they are," he added, throwing his thumb over his shoulder.

Daphne narrowed her eyes at him, clearly showing her suspicion, but then shrugged and let it go. He was glad - he really did hate lying to her, and if she'd pushed for information, he would have probably just come out and said the truth. As much as she needed to let out a little excess frustration, he didn't like the idea of her being mad at him.

Both of them paused when they noticed movement from within the house, becoming progressively more tense as their cautious allies created a line that spread out around them. Just as Daisy was about to reach for her ICER, the door opened, and out stepped none other than Steve Rogers, wielding his shield and clearly expecting a threat.

His eyes scanned over them, coming to a sudden halt when he clapped eyes on Bucky and Daphne, completely missing the fact that Coulson was standing just to their left.

Bucky didn't so much as blink when Daphne suddenly sprung away from his side, only strolling calmly forwards as Steve dropped his shield on the ground and then rushed to meet her. Daphne threw herself at Steve, wrapping her arms around his neck and dissolving into delighted giggles as Steve swept her up off her feet and spun her around, his own elated laughter echoing hers. Bucky was about five metres away when Steve finally let Daphne go, only for the woman to grab the blonde's face with both hands and plant a fierce but quick kiss on the man's lips. Bucky almost cracked up at the dumbfounded expression on Steve's face, slapping his brother on the shoulder to snap him out of his daze and then pulling him into a firm hug. Steve smacked him on the back, then pushed him away and looked at them both.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Just a drive-through," Bucky said, grabbing Daphne's hand and tugging her against his side. While he wasn't angry at either of them for Daphne's uncontrollable enthusiasm (in fact he had found it rather hilarious), he still felt the need to remind everyone that Daphne was solely _his_. "More to the point: what are _you_ doing here? This isn't your house, in case you've forgotten."

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "We've been looking after the place for you," he explained. "One of us will visit once a week to make sure everything's in place. Wanda and Pietro spend half their time living here." Bucky opened his mouth to talk again, but Steve beat him to it. "Technically, they _do_ live here, so you can't refute that. You took them in, remember? But they're over at the facility for now, so it's just me and Bambi."

Daphne and Bucky exchanged glances, both sharing the same thought - that, at some point during their absence, Steve must have absolutely lost it. "Bambi?" Daphne echoed with an arched eyebrow.

Steve blinked, then a sad but understanding expression fell into place. "Yeah, it's a nickname." He glanced behind them, once again managing to miss Coulson standing right in front of him (though at least this time the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director had mostly turned his back to the house), and then smiled. "Come on in."

"Oh, great. Thanks," Daphne murmured sarcastically. "Invite us into our own home, why don't you?" Steve chuckled, grinning back at her, and then led the way inside.

"So who's this 'Bambi' gal you were talking about?" Bucky asked, looking around, expecting said girl to be nearby, but the house was the same as always.

"Stoo!"

Bucky and Daphne tensed until they were barely breathing, their faces freezing in shock. Two pairs of sharp eyes watched as Steve gave them a very soft smile, before he turned away towards the lounge, scooping up a little body from the ground.

For a moment there was no movement from any of the occupants of the house, before those bright, familiar, emerald green eyes skipped over to Daphne and Bucky, and then her whole face lit up with delight. She stretched out her little hands, making grabbing motions and cried, "Mama! Dada!"


	10. 10 - A Long Overdue Gift

**A/N: Another late one, and for that I am SO sorry, though at least this time I have an excuse - we're getting a new kitchen! And, as such, the computer has been bagsied for kitchen-y plans. This has been my first chance to get on in four days. Still, I hope you enjoy the REUNION!**

 **Big thanks to: heyhaley17, Madame. Viper and Jessiebaby96 for favouriting/following :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Jessica959: Heh, glad you thought so! I tried. :)**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Sorry to disappoint, I kept you waiting. Hopefully that'll mean this is all the sweeter. And you're one to talk, English ;)**

* * *

 **10 - A Long Overdue Gift**

"Oh my God," I breathed, rushing across the room and stealing my baby girl from Steve's arms, all but crushing her to my chest with the intention of never _ever_ letting go. "Vera," I murmured, cradling her head against my shoulder. "Oh, my beautiful baby girl. I missed you so much. I'm never leaving you again. I promise." Vera squealed happily, reaching over my shoulder as Bucky came up behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist from behind and using the other to allow Vera to wrap her hand around his finger.

"Hey, Princess," he whispered, sounding just as choked up as I felt, both of us just relishing in the fact that our daughter was back with us.

I glanced at Steve, smiling tearfully at him in thanks. He winked at me. "H-How does she remember us?" I asked, glad beyond anything I could express with words that she did, but knowing she really _shouldn't_ _._ "A baby doesn't form lasting memories for months, and we've been gone for half her life. How-?"

"Ever since you guys left we've been showing her things with you in. Videos, pictures, messages. Anything to keep you in her mind," he explained softly. "We were constantly telling her that you guys are her parents, so she'd know you when you came back."

I just stared at him, touched beyond words that they'd gone to such lengths. "Thanks, pal," Bucky murmured, his voice softer than it had been for what felt like a _very_ long time.

"It's nothing," Steve said with a suspiciously shy smile and a shrug, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I don't think it was even necessary - Stark suspects that Vera might already be developing an eidetic memory."

Bucky grinned down at Vera, a proud gleam in his eyes. "Oh, I see how it is," he muttered teasingly, poking her gently on the stomach and making her giggle, trying to catch his finger when he pulled his hand back. "Not even a year old and you're already showing up your old man, hey, Princess?"

"It's her lifelong duty - she's a woman," I stated simply, winking at him when he raised an eyebrow at me. "If it makes you feel better, she's showing me up at the same time. I _definitely_ don't have an eidetic memory."

Bucky hummed. "I'm not so sure. You never forget where you put things. I mean... _anything_. I could deliberately try to hide something from you and you'd probably find it without even looking. It's... actually kinda scary."

"That's cute," I retorted, planting a peck on his nose and then shifting in his hold, allowing him to take Vera in his arms. "Now, we have some visitors we're rather rudely ignoring." I gave him a quick smile, before heading back towards the door. Looking out, I couldn't help but smile to myself when I noticed the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents doing their best not to look awkward. Fitz and Daisy were having what seemed like an actual, proper conversation, but everyone else seemed to have no idea what to do with themselves. Coulson had actually disappeared entirely. "You can come in, you know," I called out to them, stepping away from the house and walking towards the group of people I could very easily start to call my friends. "Say hi to Vera, even."

"Is she your daughter?" Daisy asked, grinning with barely contained excitement.

I nodded, returning the smile. "Yeah, that's right. Just a warning, though - she can be a little bit irresistible when she wants."

"Noted," Daisy said, before rushing inside, dragging Fitz with her.

I turned to May and Bobbi. "Where's Coulson?"

"He asked us not to tell you."

I scoffed. "You think I couldn't find him if I wanted to? This is my home, don't forget. I know this place like the back of my hand. Even if you don't tell me where he went, it would take me forty minutes, tops, to find him."

Everyone was quiet for a moment, before Hunter threw a thumb over his shoulder and said, "He went that way."

I grinned at him. "Cheers." I then headed towards the treeline, hearing the others start to make their way into the house.

It didn't take me long to find Phil, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. His eyes widened slightly when he saw me approaching. "You weren't supposed to find me," he muttered.

"Yeah," I said with an exhale, sitting beside him. "I kind of gathered that." For a moment, both of us were quiet, before I asked, "Why are you so against telling the Avengers you're still alive?"

Coulson sighed. "It's never as simple as it looks. It hurts that they don't know. But that's the thing - I'm not just biding my time, waiting for this to happen. I'm doing my thing, and you guys are doing your thing. The Avengers are too busy to worry themselves about me, especially since S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't lead them anymore."

"I disagree entirely," I responded instantly, frowning. "How could you possibly believe that the Avengers wouldn't worry about you? Your death tore them apart, Phil. Maybe it was a necessary sacrifice to get them to realise they _could_ be a team, but that doesn't mean they don't still feel the pain of it. Steve, Tony and Thor especially."

Coulson frowned. "Why would they feel pain for that? None of them knew me."

"They didn't need to. Five minutes in the same room is all anyone needs to know how brilliant Phillip Coulson really is. Thor feels guilt for the fact that it was his brother who stabbed you, for the fact that he was in the room and he could do nothing to help keep you alive. That's what gets to him most - his proximity. I can't tell you how many times I've heard him trying to discuss with his friends ways in which the whole thing could have been handled differently, so you didn't die." I smiled at him when he glanced up in surprise. "And Steve... Well, Steve is just Steve. He always puts every death on his own shoulders, somehow finding a way to put the blame on himself. He respected you - even with all the fanboying you did - and he was hit hard by your loss. I think, at the time, with him being so fresh from the ice, your presence helped to ground him." The shock on Coulson's face was mirrored by the rest of his body now. His whole frame had frozen completely. "And then, of course, there's Tony. He'd never say any of this to anyone out loud, but I like to think I know that man well enough to get a read on him. It doesn't happen often - your death is a subject everyone prefers to avoid - but whenever it comes up, Tony always goes very still and very quiet. He liked you, Phil. Truly, and genuinely. Oh, he may have acted like an asshole, but that's just him. I'm convinced there's more to it than just that. You saved his life, but, even more importantly... You saved Pepper's. There will never be anyone more important to Tony Stark than Pepper Potts, and you kept her safe from harm when he couldn't. He never got the chance to thank you for that, and I know that bothers him more than he'll ever admit."

Coulson looked at me again, his eyes skirting over my face. "You really believe that?"

"It's a fact, not a belief," I stated simply. I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I really think they deserve to know. You can't use the whole 'not being level eight' thing as an excuse anymore. And at this point in time, with all that's happened in the last few years, I think they need this one little bit of happiness returned to them. Someone they believe died because of them is still alive. Nothing could ever be more meaningful to them. Nothing."

Coulson stared at me for a long time, apparently lost for words. Then, an expression of the utmost determination washed over his face, and he stood up. "You're right," he said firmly as I also stood. "I have no reason to keep this from them anymore. And God knows I can't keep hiding - you found me in less than ten minutes!"

I shrugged, grinning. "Well, you do seem to have forgotten that this is my home. I know it better than anyone, and certainly better than you." I grin then shifted to a smirk. "But actually I was aided by the fact that Hunter told me which direction you'd gone."

Coulson raised an eyebrow, before nodding. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

While he didn't say anything, I could tell that Coulson was growing increasingly nervous the closer we got to the farmhouse. Just before we reached the edge of the treeline I reached out a hand and stopped him, turning him to face me. "Phil, if this really makes you uncomfortable, I won't force you to go through with this. I know I said I would but... Truly, if you don't want to do this, just say so."

Shaking his head, Coulson glanced back at the house, only a small portion of which was visible through the final layers of foliage ahead. "No, you're right. They should have been told a long time ago. I just... didn't think this would ever happen. It's no secret I'm alive to some but most of the world didn't know I existed in the first place. I have to assume Fury had his reasons for keeping this from them."

"Well, Fury's not in charge anymore, and he respects your decisions, even if they undermine his. You don't have to follow _every_ order, Coulson."

He nodded, smiling softly. "Yeah, I know." He shook his head, squared his shoulders, and then without another word strode forward. I had to admire the man for his determination.

"Tell you what," I said as I caught up with him, "I'll go in first, try to lessen the shock a little."

Coulson laughed. "No, you don't want to do that."

"Why not?"

"It's like Bucky said earlier - the element of surprise just makes the whole experience better." He grinned at me. "Besides, not everyone can say they surprised Captain America."

I chuckled. "No, that's true, though between you and me, it's easier than it sounds. He still gets surprised when a girl actively tries to talk to him."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. He may be the world's first superhero, but in his head he's still the little guy from Brooklyn with only a handful of friends." I shrugged. "I guess it hasn't hit him yet that he's actually a part of one of the biggest family-of-friends in the world."

Bucky, with Vera balanced on his waist, poked his head around the door. "There you are," he called, smirking at the sight of Coulson walking beside me. "Everyone was getting impatient."

"I said no more than forty minutes, didn't I?" I challenged, matching his grin. "I kept that promise, and then some. I have no idea what anyone is complaining about." I picked up my pace slightly so I could peck him gently on the lips, before we simultaneously wrapped an arm around each other. I turned back to Coulson. "Ready to face the wolves?"

He hesitated for less than half a second before nodding, and so Bucky and I led the way back into the house. Every pair of eyes turned towards the doorway, and we stepped aside so Steve got the perfect view of Phil Coulson as he finally walked through the door.

To say Steve looked shocked would be a gross understatement. The moment his brain registered just who it was standing in front of him, Steve's eyes were as immobile as the rest of his face, clearly struggling to absorb the bombshell that had hit him like a freight train. I could imagine the sparks flying through his brain, desperately trying to connect the dots and instead just causing his mind to short circuit.

It was a good few seconds before Steve managed to do as little as blink, and it was even longer before his body showed signs of movement. He let out a long breath, shook his head, and then turned to leave the room without a word.

Everyone exchanged looks, concerned for his behaviour, except Bucky and I. We both knew exactly where he'd gone, and what he'd gone to do.

"I'd have thought he'd handle the news a little better," Coulson muttered in a dry tone, a frown pinching at his features nonetheless.

Bucky smirked. "Yeah, just give it a minute. It's not what you're thinking."

"Then what is it?" We just stayed silent, getting distracted when Vera started to become restless in Bucky's arms, reaching out for me to hold her. I smiled fondly and gently pulled her out of Bucky's grasp, resting her on my hip and smiling when her hands immediately took hold of my hair. I was happy to see she still kept her adorable obsessions with both my hair and Bucky's beard.

Looking up sharply when I heard Steve walk back in, he again remained silent as he approached Coulson, before holding out his hand. In his grasp, were a small pile of cards.

"All signed," the Cap said at last, smiling when Coulson - completely dumbfounded - took the cards from him. "Just as I promised." Coulson stared at the cards for a moment, before smiling and pocketing them.

"Thanks. I'll make sure to add them to my collection."

Steve nodded, then clapped Coulson firmly on the shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Phil. But you have got a hell of a lot of explaining to do."

That smile still present, Coulson nodded. "I'll get right to it, though you may want to sit down. It's a long story."

Steve chuckled. "Oh, I don't doubt it."

And with no more said, the two men walked towards the lounge, the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents following after.

Bucky hummed. "I was expecting a little bit more of a reaction than that."

I shrugged. "It probably hasn't registered properly yet. No doubt he'll have a bit of a moment halfway through Coulson's explanation as to how he died and came to be resurrected." I patted his chest. "Now, be a good host and make everyone a drink."

"And why can't you do that?"

"Because I'm on baby-duty," I retorted with a smug grin and a wink when he rolled his eyes. I pecked him on the cheek. "Thanks, sweetheart."

"You owe me for this, doll. And I won't let you forget it."

"Oh, I'm sure you won't."


	11. 11 - Confessions

**A/N: Late again. Sorry :/ I know that this is starting up a little slowly, and for that I'm sorry, I just realised I couldn't really do this bit quickly, if you now what I mean. Still, the events of Civil War will start in the next few chapters. Also, I would like to ask your opinion on something - during Upon The Edge Of Glory, a few of you expressed interest in finding out what Daphne got up to between the end of the war and her eventual reunion with Bucky. Since I won't be able to continue this series until the next major Marvel movie comes out, I wondered if any of you would like me to try to write out the events of those years. Let me know. :)**

 **Big thanks to Neese96 for following :P**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Madame. Viper: Glad to hear it, and thanks! :D**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Heh, thanks. Yeah, I just thought it'd agree with Steve's character. Happy to hear you enjoyed it!**

* * *

 **11 - Confessions**

Steve returned to New York with us once Coulson had told him the whole story about Project T.A.H.I.T.I. and everything else that had happened to their team since then. During that time, Bucky left Vera with Daisy - who had, as promised, fallen completely in love with the little girl, and was perfectly happy to look after her - and had all but dragged me down to the training room for a sparring match. He won, as expected, though I could proudly say I'd lasted longer than I would have done without my additional skills from Asgard.

The spar had done me some good, and it allowed my head to clear enough for me to work out why Bucky had brought us here. I was a little miffed he hadn't told me his plan in the first place, but even I could admit he was probably better off for having stayed quiet about it. And since his plan worked, I couldn't exactly be mad at him for _that._

Joseph Coltrain was escorted down to the holding cells of the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters while Coulson told everyone else to meet him in his office, which we all did after we had changed out of our tactical gear and left our belongings in our designated rooms. Bucky and I had been provided with a spacious room that, honestly, we thought was slightly overboard since we wouldn't be staying long, but we could hardly complain about it either.

It wasn't easy fitting everyone into Phil's office, but we managed. We all watched with various levels of amusement as Phil proudly moved to display his signed Captain America cards in a glass box on his desk, before he became serious, turning to face us with a calm but cold expression on his face.

"I just got this in from one of the Koenig brothers - I honestly have no idea which one." He displayed the holographic file of Joseph Coltrain, but that wasn't exactly something we hadn't seen before. Sensing there was more to it, however, I, along with everyone else, stayed silent. "There was one piece of information we overlooked when eyeballing this file yesterday, mainly because at that point we didn't have access to it." He flicked through a few commands, before he was centred on a section from when Joseph was younger. "In 1994, Coltrain was assigned to one of the best psychiatrists in the country. Three months later, he was declared to be mentally unstable and was sent to Waypoint Centre for Mental Health Care. He spent a total of eighteen years in there, showing no signs of improvement the whole time, and then suddenly his attitude started to change. He began to get better, for no reason that anyone could see. In 2012, he was let out of the hospital." He flicked through some more of the file, before coming up with some photos. He zoomed in on one, showing him leaving the medical centre with an older man with a receding hairline. "Now, we don't know who this is-"

"Gideon Malick," Bucky and I told him, both of us radiating tension at the sight of the man.

Coulson glanced at us in surprise, only for his face to fall when he saw our expressions. "Hydra?" he asked.

I scoffed. "Oh yeah," I muttered darkly. "He's been one of them since the early 1970s, and I do believe his daughter is also a rather high ranking member."

"So how do we find him?"

"Oh, he's easy to find," Bucky said, that low tone in his voice as well. "That's what he does so well - he hides in plain sight. You might know who he is and who he works for, but right now he's untouchable."

"Why?"

"Because he's the personal adviser of President Ellis." Bucky shook his head, clenching his jaw tightly before letting out a long breath. "Going after him right now is a dead end. It's not worth the effort, and you're almost guaranteed to fail. You need to wait for a time when he brings himself out into the open."

Coulson nodded. "So for now we stick to Coltrain."

"Who, according to his file, is possibly still unstable," May murmured with a sigh.

Coulson nodded. "We can't afford to be too forceful when we question him, otherwise he might relapse and grow violent."

"Send me and Daphne in," Bucky said firmly, a hard look in his eyes.

Shaking his head, Coulson told him, "I can't do that. You lost a lot because of that man-"

"We're not going to hurt him, if that's what you're worried about," I cut in, rolling my eyes. "We've both promised ourselves and each other that we're leaving that life behind. But we're the people he wanted to attack by poisoning Agatha and then killing her family."

"Exactly," Bucky continued, picking up where I'd left off. "By seeing us he's more likely to say something, out of fear that we'll strike against him for blowing up that building with our friends still inside, or through being overwhelmed by his - frankly - justified hatred towards me, making him admit to everything just to spite me."

"I'm sorry, it's not worth the risk."

"I think it is," May stated calmly, causing Bucky, Coulson and I to turn to her in shock, while everyone else just slowly nodded in agreement. "Bucky and Daphne are truly trying to make up for the red in their files, certainly if what Rogers says is anything to go by. I doubt they'd let this set them back, no matter how tempting it is. And the sooner this is over, the sooner they can get back to their lives."

Coulson glanced at Bucky and I, pursing his lips. "Fine," he relented, "but at the first sign of trouble I'm pulling you out, got it?"

We both nodded, our faces bearing almost identical expressions of grim determination.

* * *

It was easy to tell how uncomfortable Coltrain was, having witnessed the man tense up the moment he noticed Bucky and Daphne entering the interrogation room. That tension shifted quickly into fear when he realised that they were to be the ones to talk to him, and that they were going to question him alone. Coulson gave them a firm nod, before activating the panel beside him. An opaque, glass-like material covered the front of the room, blocking them off from the rest of the base.

Bucky took the seat opposite Coltrain, while Daphne moved towards the wall behind Bucky, leaning against it with her arms crossed. If Coltrain tensed any more, he'd surely be tearing some muscles; his whole figure was deadly still, and even his breathing was growing shallower and shallower.

Bucky, it seemed, had been right about one thing - the man appeared to be terrified of them, and what they could do to him if they chose. While they had promised Coulson that they wouldn't hurt the man, there was still a notable time-frame between the guy noticing them making a move to do just that and having Agents in the room to pull them back. Joseph Coltrain seemed to have made that link as well.

"It was for revenge, wasn't it?" Neither of them had spoken for five minutes, leaving the room in a stifling quietness. Just when Coltrain seemed about ready to burst, Bucky's low voice broke that silence.

Coltrain blinked, letting out a breath. "W-What?" he asked.

Bucky patiently repeated. "It was for revenge. The reason you poisoned Agatha, the reason you drew us there, the reason you blew up that building while we were in front of it. It was revenge for killing your grandfather."

He stared at Bucky in shock, unable to talk for a good few seconds before his mouth snapped shut and he swallowed. "How do you know that?"

"Whenever we were sent out to kill someone," Daphne said, her voice completely flat, "we always tried to find out as much about our target as possible. Family and friends were usually amongst the first to come up in our searches."

"I'm gonna be honest here," Bucky picked up, leaning both arms on the table and leaning forward, narrowing his eyes when Coltrain edged ever-so-slightly away from him. "Neither of us are happy about what you did to our friends-"

"Now, listen, I-"

"But we can at least understand why you did it."

Coltrain froze, looking utterly perplexed. "What?"

Daphne stepped away from the wall, moving to sit on the edge of the table, beside Bucky. "We, more than anyone else, are aware of the lives we've taken over the years."

"That's the problem with having someone else shove a mind other than your own in your head," Bucky agreed, taking Daphne's hand and squeezing it gently. "Everyone who knows of us knows what we're guilty of, how much pain we've caused."

"What they don't know is how guilty _we_ feel about it, how much it hurts _us_. In the whole world, I don't think there's anyone that hates us more than we hate ourselves." Daphne sighed, playing with Bucky's fingers. "Agatha Frye was one of my best friends, and I'd known her since 1937." Coltrain sucked in a long breath, this being news to him. Very few people knew this part of her past. "She was the one person who I told everything back then. I told her about my past in Hydra, about me, and Bucky, and how many lives we killed. I told her every single thing about me. And do you know what she said?"

Coltrain swallowed thickly. "What? What did she say?"

"She asked me why I hadn't told her that my birthday had already been and gone." Daphne laughed slightly. "Once I got to know her properly, I realised there was little else she could have said, but, at the time, that meant the world. Because she didn't care about my past. She cared about how I was going to use it to change my future."

Coltrain glanced between us. "Why are you telling me this?"

"We're telling you so you know just how special Agatha Frye was to us," Bucky replied. "To Daphne in particular. We were two of the dozen or less people at her wedding. Two of her three children were Daphne's godsons. Her husband was another friend of ours. Let me ask you something - do you know how many people were in that room with her when that building blew?"

With tears slowly starting to gather in the corners of his eyes, Coltrain shook his head.

"Twenty-six," answered Daphne. "Not including Agatha herself. And that was just in one room. It's hard to say for certain how many others there were, but I think it's safe to say that it was a lot of people. Significantly more than a hundred, probably."

"And do you want to know the fun little fact about that number?"

"Under Hydra's command, Bucky and I killed a total of 67 people. 67."

"Which means that, in that one explosion, you probably killed twice as many people as we did over sixty years of service."

"And each of those people had friends and family who now have to mourn the deaths of those who were caught in the blast."

"How do you think they would feel if they found out who it was that blew up the building?"

"One of them might choose to go after you."

"Which could result in more civilian casualties."

"Don't you see?" Daphne urged, hopping off the table and then leaning on it with her palms flat. "You could have very well just triggered an endless circle, where more people die and more people are left battered and broken from their heartbreak."

Bucky nodded, his face softening slightly at the utterly horrified expression on Coltrain's face. "We understand why you did what you did," he said softly, "but no one can every accurately predict the eventual outcomes from actions such as yours. No one could possibly know how many other people might get hurt - people you never even thought about whilst making your original plans."

Coltrain seemed unable to speak. "I... I don't..."

"It's alright," Daphne murmured softly. "We were guilty of the same thing. But the last year and a half have somewhat put things into perspective for us. Me especially. Which is why we're going to do something you probably would never expect us to do."

"You killed Agatha to get to us," muttered Bucky, frowning slightly. "Which means, in a way, it's our fault. And for that reason, we can't really blame you for what happened in July."

"So we won't," Daphne told him with a sense of finality. "We won't blame you. In fact, we're going to forgive you for what you did, because, in the end, we _are_ the ones to blame." She laughed bitterly. "Look at that," she mused, "for once, the media have it right."

Bucky sighed. "Maybe we should step up and take responsibility for everything we triggered over the last six decades."

"Don't," Coltrain snapped sharply, causing both Bucky and Daphne to look at him in surprise. "Don't blame yourself for what happened. It's my fault, not yours. It was me who planted the bomb, me who killed all those people. It's not your fault, and it never was. I just wasn't strong enough to see past what Hydra took from me. Because, in the end, it was them, not you."

"I still pulled the trigger," Bucky grumbled sadly, causing Daphne to gently rub his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him.

"Because you didn't have a choice," Coltrain said, sighing. "That's where you and I differ - I chose to do this. Those lives are on my conscience. The lives you took under Hydra's command shouldn't be on yours."

Daphne shook her head. "But they still are," she whispered sadly. "And I don't think either of us are ever going to forget their faces."

Coltrain was quiet for a long time, before looking up at Bucky with a firm expression. "You remember that day?"

Bucky nodded slowly. "I remember them all."

"Then tell me how he died."

"What?"

"Tell me how you killed my grandfather."

It was Bucky's turn to swallow. "I, um... I shot him, right in the heart."

Coltrain nodded. "Then you killed him quickly. He wouldn't have felt much pain. Even then, I still think you had some mercy in you." He drew himself up in his chair. "What happened in Vancouver was my fault, and I claim full responsibility for it. I'm willing to admit it to anyone who asks. You two have suffered because of me, and while I've done a lot of bad things in the last two months, I think it's time I try to make up for that. Starting with letting you get back to your lives." He smiled. "I saw your baby when we were getting off the plane, by the way. She's cute."

The two of them stared at him, completely lost for words. This was far beyond anything that they'd expected, and they'd gone through dozens of potential outcomes to this session. "We'll do what we can to get you a kinder sentence," Daphne told him softly. "Thank you."

Coltrain nodded again. "I'm just sorry I went this far."

Daphne smiled widely. "If there's one I believe in more than anything else, it's that everyone - no matter what they've done - is worthy of a second chance. And I'll be damned if I don't fight for you to get yours."


	12. 12 - Homecoming

**A/N: Hello again! Only a few more chapters before Civil War starts. Bear with me. Until then, have some fluff. :)**

 **Big thanks to StrictlyHermione and karina001 for following :)))**

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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: I guess you'll find out... :3**

* * *

 **12 - Homecoming**

Joe Coltrain kept his word, submitting a formal admittance of his actions to the authorities, and this, along with the footage provided by S.H.I.E.L.D., successfully cleared our names. But Bucky and I stayed a little longer, and - much to the surprise of all the juries and judges we stood before - we helped Coltrain to fight his case. For over a month we attended every hearing he was called to. Even if we weren't there to speak on his behalf, we sat in the audience, determined to be present for every moment of his trial period. If nothing else, we owed this man for being brave enough to give us our lives back.

On October 14th, Joseph Coltrain was sentenced to 46 years in prison.

The morning after the sentence, Coulson and his team gave Bucky, Vera and I a lift back to the farm. They took off only seconds after we stepped onto the grass, having already all said their goodbyes.

Bucky and I stood and watched them leave, leaning against one another, Bucky's hand around my shoulders while I held Vera in my arms. "October 15th," he murmured quietly.

I smiled, nodding against his shoulder. "Happy anniversary, sweetheart."

He pressed a kiss against the crown of my head, and I met his eyes, both of us sharing a small smile. A year. It sounded like such a short amount of time, and yet _so much_ had happened since that day a year ago.

"Come on," he said with a drawn out sigh, "let's see who's invaded our house _this time_."

I laughed. "See, you're complaining now, but we both know you've missed them."

Bucky blinked, before tilting his head to the side. "I suppose," he mused. "Though I didn't really miss Stark."

Grinning, I smacked him playfully on the shoulder as best I could with the wrong arm, the other being temporarily out of commission. "Rude," I scolded lightly, before heading into the house, Bucky shutting the door gently behind him as he followed after me. "Anybody home?" I called, only to receive silence in response. "Guess there's no invasion to interrupt today." I headed for the lounge, setting Vera on the rug on the floor and smiling as she immediately crawled towards the toys that had been left there for her.

"And I think I know why," Bucky called from the kitchen. I frowned in confusion, moving to meet him and he smiled, passing me a piece of folded paper.

 _I told everyone to give you some peace for today, since it's your wedding anniversary. We're all coming to visit tomorrow though, so make the most of it._

 _~ Steve_

I chuckled. "That man is too good to us," I murmured, placing the paper back on the counter. A smile crept over my face as Bucky stepped towards me, stopping when we were less than three inches apart and sliding his arms around my waist. My hands automatically moved to bury themselves in his hair as he lowered his head, pressing firmly forward, searing his lips with mine.

"Personally," he muttered, kissing me again. "I think we deserve it." And then he started pushing me towards the wall, until I was planted firmly right next to the door frame.

Smirking, I nipped his bottom lip, that smirk becoming a full-blown grin when he shuddered slightly, leaning more of his weight into me. "Perhaps you're right," I whispered into his ear, before gently nibbling the sensitive skin directly behind it. He growled lowly, both hands moving to cup my face. He pulled me away from him and then smashed his lips against mine again, his tongue ferociously wrestling its way into my mouth in a way he knew I absolutely adored.

We stayed in that position, kissing each other furiously, until we were both about to pass out from a lack of breath. "So what do you say?" he asked, breathing as heavily as I was, his face flushed and his pupils blown wide. "I have three months of alone time with you to catch up on in one day. Think we can manage it?"

I shook my head. "Not even close," I replied, before pushing him back, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards our bedroom.

* * *

When Bucky woke the sun was barely beginning to rise in the sky, their bedroom still retaining a faint blue hue from the lingering night. He let out a soft noise of complaint at the ache in his muscles when he rolled over, but ignored the slight pain in favour of wrapping his arm around Daphne's torso and pulling her flush against him. His metal arm was under her head, grasping hold of one of her hands on the other side. She was curled up in a little ball, her skin seeming to gleam in the morning light. He always loved seeing her at this time, seeing how ethereal she looked when the sun rose in the morning, its light drifting over her body like she was so infinitely precious that only the softest caress was allowed.

At least, that's how he saw it. He just prided himself with the knowledge that he, and he alone, was able to witness these moments.

He all but leapt out of bed when he caught the sound of a whimper coming from Vera's room across the hall, scooping her into his arms before she began to cry properly. She had apparently been startled by his sudden entrance, enough so that she fell silent and just stared at him for a second. Then, a breath-taking smile lit up her face, and she reached up with both of her little hands, cradling Bucky's jaw.

"Dada," she cooed softly.

Nothing could ever compare to her little voice actually _speaking_ to him. That she knew who he was to her was miracle in its own right, that she could tell him she knew who he was... It was indescribable in the best of ways.

"Hey, Princess," he murmured softly to her. "What made you cry, hmm?" She just stroked his chin again, that beam never leaving her face. "Oh, did you just miss us?" He poked her nose gently with his metal finger, laughing quietly when she tried to catch it before it moved away. "Missed you too, Vera. More than words can express."

Vera's green eyes sparkled with her happiness, and with the way she kept rubbing his chin Bucky began to wonder if she'd ever let him put her down.

"Not that I don't love the view," Daphne's coy voice came from the doorway, causing Bucky to spin around and see her wearing his shirt from yesterday, "but I think you ought to put some underwear on at the very least before the Avengers get here."

Bucky grinned and stepped towards her, leaning forward and planting a lingering kiss on her lips. "Yes, ma'am," he responded in a low voice that had her eyelids flickering, before she blinked it away and reached out to take Vera from him. "Though you also probably ought to put some more clothes on."

She rolled her eyes. "At least I'm wearing _something_. Honestly, were Vera not as young as she is she'd probably be scarred for life."

Bucky huffed, pretending to be insulted. "How you wound me, dear."

Daphne grinned. "I'm just saying - a child doesn't want to see their parents naked. Doesn't make _me_ appreciate it any less." She kissed him again, then turned her attention back to Vera. Bucky headed back to their bedroom.

He was just pulling on his favourite red hoodie when the sound of jet engines sounded in the distance. Daphne burst in a moment later, passing him Vera without a word and then hurriedly shoving her dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. She proceeded to yank on a clean set of clothes, ignoring Bucky as he watched her with an amused smile on his face.

She turned to face him, having just finished brushing her tangled hair, when an all too familiar - not to mention snarky - voice called out to them.

"You guys better not still be doing inappropriate things in there."

Bucky and Daphne rolled their eyes simultaneously, before they exited their bedroom and went to meet their friends. "We're not you, Tony Stark," Daphne countered, grinning at the man and then hugging him strongly. Daphne's relationship with Tony honestly didn't make that much sense to him - she treated the billionaire like he was her responsibility. And he, likewise, acted like she was some kind of older sister. It had taken Daphne nearly dying in that plane accident for Bucky to realise just how... _dynamic_ their relationship was.

Bucky grinned at everyone else, unable to do more than shake their hands or give an awkward one-armed hug with Vera still clinging to him, though she did let go with one hand to wave cheerfully at Pietro and Wanda as they walked through the doorway, being the very last ones to do so. The twins were immediately pulled into an enthusiastic embrace by his wife, and they smiled fondly as they returned it.

For several minutes the couple reunited with their friends, both just relishing in the fact that they didn't have to live in fear anymore, that they could go back to their lives.

The moment was rather abruptly cut short when a device in Stark's pocket started making an obnoxious, high-pitched beeping sound. Everyone turned to face him, watching he pulled out a small black device. He grinned, glancing up from the device. "I think we're going to be having even more visitors."

Barely a second later, the rainbow light of the Bifrost shot through the clouds, landing only a few metres from the house. Bucky and Daphne exchanged a look before heading towards the door, the rest of the Avengers parting to let them go through. With the exception of Thor, no one except Daphne really knew any Asgardians, which meant the visitors were mostly likely there to see her.

"Do you think it's Loki?" Bucky asked, his lips pressed against my ear.

"Doubtful," she replied, just as the Bifrost faded away, leaving only its usual pattern scorched on the grass, and four familiar figures. "Sif!" Daphne cried, grinning at the woman as she made her way towards the couple. "What are you doing here?"

"I promised I would visit, did I not?" Sif challenged, smirking at her. "I brought company - I hope you don't mind."

Daphne chuckled. "Not sure if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly craving alone time right now."

Her eyes skipped behind them, spotting the Avengers, before she looked at the pair again. Her eyes scanned over Bucky in a split-second, and she smiled slightly. "You must be James Barnes," she said, pressing her fist to her chest and tilting her head slightly. "It is an honour to meet you at last."

Bucky blinked. "Likewise," he murmured. "Though I'm going to have to insist you call me Bucky."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," Daphne laughed. "Sif doesn't do nicknames." She turned back to her Asgardian friends. "It's good to see you all," she said with a grin, before gesturing back at the house. "Come on inside. It's not exactly up to the same standards as the palace, but it should be big enough to keep everyone relatively comfortable."

Sif nodded, and she, Hogun and Volstagg went straight inside, the latter easily striking up conversation with Tony and Steve. Fandral hesitated, his eyes on Vera, who eyed him curiously in return though kept a firm grip on Bucky's hoodie.

"It is quite peculiar," he said after a moment, looking up at Daphne. "I have known you many years, have heard of your desires to become a mother, and yet seeing it with my own eyes is something rather different." He smiled. "And your daughter is going to be a thing of beauty when she's older, I promise you that."

"She's a thing'a beauty right now," Bucky countered, his Brooklyn accent making an appearance alongside the slight threat in his voice. He was all too aware of Fandral's flirtatious character, knew he was known to be quite the womaniser back on Asgard, and this knowledge had all his protective father instincts flaring.

Fandral smirked, a knowing gleam to his eyes. "Quite, though I realised that I might not survive saying such a thing in front of you. Talking about the future did at least afford me a little bit of protection from that."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "You've only just met him and you're already trying to ruffle his feathers. Shame on you, Fandral."

Fandral grinned crookedly at her and winked, before waltzing inside the house, leaving the couple outside on their own. Bucky let out a long breath. "I can already tell that things with him aren't gonna be easy," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder and watching as the blonde Asgardian sat in the spot that _he_ usually chose.

"Don't take it personally," Daphne said softly, drawing his eyes back her way. "That's just the way he is - you either get on with him really well, or you spend every minute of the day trying not to tear his head off." She shrugged. "I tend to go back and forth. Believe me, the first few days with that man I threatened to throw him off the Bifrost more times than I'd like to admit. Give him a chance, at the very least. You might find he grows on you."

"I think I'll reserve judgement for now," he agreed, "but don't get your hopes up." Daphne smirked oddly at him, making him frown suspiciously. "What?"

"Nothing much, it's just..." She chuckled. "Well, he acts much like you did in the 30s. By default, you just said you don't like the old you."

Bucky shrugged. "I'm perfectly aware of the old me's behaviour. It's a bit different seeing it in someone else, though. Also, I'm _nothing_ like the old me."

Daphne hummed, that twisted smirk still on her face. "Speaking as someone who knew both versions of you, I can tell you that's complete bullshit." Then she flashed him a rather sultry wink (in his opinion), before she turned and headed into the house.

Bucky watched her go, unable to find the right response to her words or her wink. He glanced down at Vera, who met his gaze evenly, as though she had understood the whole conversation as was wholeheartedly agreeing with her mother. "Not a word," he threatened quietly, poking her gently in the stomach and causing her to break out into a fit of giggles. Then, with a soft smile on his face, Bucky followed his wife inside.


	13. 13 - November Plans

**A/N: So this was originally going to be one chapter, but as I was writing it I realised it kept getting longer and longer. Turns out the whole things was over 7,000 words, so I've split it into two relatively long chapters. I still have to go over and proof-read the other half, so it'll probably be up in a day or so, but for now, have another unashamed filler chapter with even more fluff. :)**

 **Big thanks to: elisamiller98, isakarolina and elljayde for following/favouriting.**

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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: I love that you managed to turn Hydra into a Voldemort-esque thing. Congrats, my friend. :3**

* * *

 **13 - November Plans**

It seemed so strange to be back. When coming back to Earth after my 60 year stay in Asgard, it only took a few days for me to acclimatise myself back into my old life. But this time it turned out to be somewhat more difficult. Almost a month had come and gone since Bucky and I had returned home, and yet a part of me still felt jittery, like I was expecting someone to burst through the doors at any moment and arrest us.

Bucky seemed perfectly relaxed though, so I kept my feelings to myself.

"Are you sure we have to do this?" Bucky asked, coming in with a sleepy baby in his arms. She looked adorable, her dark hair still on the short side and thoroughly unkempt. Vera behaved very well during the night, but she rarely stopped fidgeting, hence the state of her hair. Bucky had dressed her up in a dark blue dress, a pair of black shoes and a fluffy white coat for the evening.

"You know as well as I do that Tony will kill us if we don't." I smiled at Vera, taking her from Bucky and kissing the crown of her head gently. She clung to my jacket, resting her head against my shoulder and letting her eyes droop immediately. We'd tried to let her get some more sleep during the day to make up for the fact she was unlikely to be sleeping much on the journey to New York, but she'd been wide awake the whole day. Typically, the moment we started to get ready to leave, her tiredness kicked in. I prayed that the car ride wouldn't stop her from getting her much-needed rest. "Have you got Nat's gift?" Bucky nodded, patting his pocket to show where he'd put them, and I smiled at him.

He led the way out, holding the door open for me to step through before pulling it closed and locking it. I opened the door to the car, gently placing Vera in her car seat and securing the straps, before handing over her favourite teddy bear. She clung to it more out of instinct than anything else, her exhaustion clearly effecting her massively. I had no doubt she'd be dead to the world in mere moments.

I carefully shut the door and then stepped into the driver's seat, Bucky climbing in on the other side a second or two later.

For a moment I just sat there, hands on the wheel, staring ahead. "I almost don't want to go," I muttered, knowing Bucky would hear me and that he'd understand what I meant.

"I know," he replied, reaching out with his flesh hand and gently grasping hold of mine. "Believe me, Daphne, I have the same feeling. But just because it happened once doesn't mean it'll happen again. In fact, that it happened at all is just completely wrong."

I sighed. "I know." I let my head fall back against my chair, before glancing at him in the corner of my eye, seeing the slight tension in his jaw. "Well," I said at length, "regardless of our own feelings, we really do owe it to everyone to be there. Especially Natasha." I turned the key in the ignition and the engine hummed to life, and with one final glance over my shoulder at Vera - who was, as I hoped, fast asleep - I put the car in gear and pulled away from our house.

* * *

It was just after midnight when I turned off the engine, having stopped in Stark's garage. Bucky and I climbed out of the car as quietly as we could, both of us painfully aware of our sleeping daughter in the back seat. While Bucky grabbed our bags from the boot, I unstrapped Vera and then cradled her against my chest, before the two of us headed towards the lift.

The doors slid closed and the lift started to rise, and then FRIDAY's calm voice greeted us quietly. "Good morning, Mr and Mrs Barnes. Mr Stark has prepared your room for the night, and requests that you are up by 7'o'clock tomorrow morning to be ready for the day's activities."

"Thanks, FRIDAY," Bucky replied, keeping his voice low so Vera wouldn't be disturbed.

We left the small space when the doors opened again, Bucky heading straight for our room while I headed to the other side of the small entrance hallway, leading into Vera's room. It had been redecorated since our last visit here in July, and now, instead of the simple white and lilac walls, there was now an intricately painted scene of a young fawn, a rabbit, and a skunk.

A smile stretched across my lips. "Bambi," I noted with amusement. "Now it's starting to make a little more sense." I gently placed Vera in her cot, before grabbing the fluffy, zebra-patterned blanket and tucking it around her so she'd be comfortable. "Goodnight, sweetheart," I whispered, before stepping out of the room and pulling the door closed behind me.

Bucky was already comfortable on the bed when I walked into our room, his clothes flung around the room in random places, leaving him in no more than his underwear. Instead of chastising him for making such a mess (like I normally would) I instead mimicked his actions, stripping down to my underwear and then pulling his shirt over my torso. Crawling alongside him, I smiled sleepily as he grunted, and then used his metal arm to grab the duvet and throw it over us both. He then wrapped the same arm around me and pulled me flush against him, letting out a soft sigh of content when he buried his face into the crook of my neck. I slowly ran my fingers through his hair, feeling him quickly start to melt against me.

"Daphne?" he mumbled, his lips brushing against my skin and causing shivers to crawl down my spine.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

I smiled widely, shifting my head so I could plant a kiss on his temple. "I love you too, sweetheart. I always will."

"Good," he murmured, his voice laced with tiredness. "'Cause I ain't lettin' you go, doll. Not ever."

I stroked his hair again, pushing a stray lock behind his ear. "Where's this coming from, Bucky?"

He shrugged weakly. "Nowhere. Jus' thought I'd remind you how much you mean to me."

My heart swelled with love in an instant, and I felt my grip on him tightening. He responded in kind by squeezing my back, letting out a long, low breath. I felt his lips curve into a smile against my skin, before he pressed a whisper of a kiss against my throat. "Oh, Bucky," I breathed, copying him and burying my head in his hair. "I don't deserve you," I said softly, and I felt his arms tighten a little more.

"'Course you do," he grumbled. "Sweetheart, you're the only girl I'll ever want or need in my life." He drew back and then pressed his forehead against mine, looking at me with intense but heavy eyes. "You're the only one who'll ever understand me, who'll love me despite everything I've done. You were there for me when we were in hell, and we fought our way out together." He pressed a tender kiss against my lips, his thumbs gently rubbing my back and causing me to shudder again. "I love you, Daphne. I love you so much."

I smiled at him, tears of such overwhelming love filling my eyes. "I love you." My voice was barely audible, but his warm smile told me he'd heard me anyway. "Now get some sleep," I said, more firmly this time, tucking that rebellious lock of hair behind his ear again. "We've got a busy day in the morning. God only knows what Tony has planned."

"Knowing him, it'll make us want to kill him."

I hummed in agreement, before the two of us closed our eyes and fell asleep as a tangle of limbs, caressed by the comforting warmth of the other's body.

* * *

"That is the worst idea I've ever heard," Daphne grumbled, nursing a steaming mug of coffee. "Have you completely forgotten who it is you're talking about?"

"It's just to give us time to set things up here," Tony said, choosing his words very carefully, since he knew how much the older woman hated getting up after such a short sleep. "It'll be three hours, at most."

Daphne stared at him for a long time, before patiently asking, "And how many bars have you ever been in that are in any way interesting at 7pm, Stark?"

"I am _so_ glad you asked," he said with a grin, pulling out his phone. He flicked through it for a few seconds, before passing it to her. With a wary gleam in her eye, Daphne took the phone. She groaned almost immediately and chucked it onto the cushion beside her. Stark beamed smugly. "See? Problem solved."

"Not really what I'd call a _bar_ , Tony." She sighed, her breath causing ripples to form in her drink. "Exactly how many favours did you call in to get that to happen?"

He shrugged. "Only one or two." He gave her his best version of the puppy-eye look, though he wasn't that great at it. The aura of overbearing ego that surrounded him dulled the effect to almost zero. "Please, Daffy, just this once. I won't make you do anything like this ever again."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Tony," she grumbled, taking a slow sip of her coffee. "I still don't know why you picked me, of all people."

"Because you get on with her better than all the other girls, and are less likely to accidentally give something away." He grinned. "I promise, it'll be worth it."

Daphne grumbled incoherently into her drink. At that moment the lift doors slid open, and Steve, Vision, Bucky (who was holding Vera), Clint and the rest of his family entered the room.

"So what's the plan?" Steve asked as he poured out drinks for everyone who wanted one. Bucky just seated himself directly beside Daphne and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, letting her lean against him and try not to fall asleep.

"That's classified until later today," Tony told him, pointedly staring at Daphne. "Daphne's going to act as our distraction, which'll give us about two to three hours to get set up in here. However, to be safe, Daphne isn't to know what the plan is, in case she decides she wants to ruin the surprise for our dearest resident assassin."

Bucky's brows furrowed. "You don't trust her?"

"I never said that," Stark assured him quickly, knowing how defensive Barnes could get of his wife. "But it's better to be safe than sorry, and I know how persuasive Natasha can be when she's determined."

"Amen to that," Clint grumbled, making Laura smile at him in amusement. Nathaniel, their youngest son, was cradled in her arms, fast asleep for the moment. "You'd better have a good idea, Stark," he said, eyeing the billionaire closely. "One wrong move and you'll end up with your head detached from your body. Nat's a bit touchy when it comes to her birthday."

Daphne huffed. "Anyone would be if they were in her shoes." Everyone stared at her, wondering what the hell she was talking about, but she just waved them off. "Movies, remember?"

They'd never really gotten to finish their conversation about Daphne's peculiar situation, but with her near-death and the situation around her and Bucky's forced fleeing, they had mutually agreed to give her the benefit of the doubt. She'd had a long time to think things over, and if she thought what she was doing was for the best, then they weren't in much of a position to argue.

"Don't worry," Stark said with absolute confidence, "it's one of my better ideas. I thought long and hard about this-"

"That's a lie," Pepper said with a scoff as she waltzed in, carrying a small stack of files in her arms. "You started thinking about it last Wednesday, and within the hour came crawling to me for ideas."

Steve laughed. "Best decision you've ever made, Tony," he teased.

Stark shrugged, neither admitting to it nor denying it. "Regardless, a plan has been made. And it's gonna be epic."

"Famous last words," Clint muttered, only to smile innocently when Stark shot him an irritated look.

"Since you seem so hell-bent on making me do this," Daphne groaned, untangling herself from Bucky's hold, placing her mug on Stark's ridiculously expensive coffee table, and then standing. "Pepper, we need to go out."

Pepper blinked. "Why?"

"Because I don't have the appropriate clothing for tonight," she grumbled, shaking her head. Bucky, unbeknownst to her, was grinning his amusement, all too aware of how much she despised shopping trips. "Just please make it quick, otherwise I might go crazy."

Pepper nodded, a hint of a smile curling at her lips, before she wordlessly turned to face the door. With one last withering glare at Tony, Daphne begrudgingly followed her out.

Everyone quickly turned expectantly to the smirking billionaire, who just stood up, stretched, and then strolled leisurely towards his bar. Whilst pouring himself a scotch, he declared grandly, "FRIDAY, shut down the building. No one except the Avengers and those of special privilege are allowed inside."

"Of course, sir." The windows in the penthouse dimmed, making it seem like half a day had gone by in a mere moment.

"So what's the plan, Stark?" Bucky asked, praying that it was a good one, otherwise _he'd_ be the one to be facing Daphne's fury when they went home.

Tony smirked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes that Bucky didn't entirely trust. "We have some rearranging to do downstairs."

* * *

At 6'o'clock sharp, I burst into Natasha's room, interrupting the woman from what appeared to be some kind of yoga/meditation routine. She barely jolted, no doubt having been informed by FRIDAY that I was on my way.

"Sorry to stop you there, Nat, but we're gonna have to delve into those 8,500 dresses of yours," I announced, dumping my shopping bag on her bed and then heading straight towards her extensive closet. I could sense Natasha watching me as I began flicking through her rather impressive collection of cocktail dresses. I hesitated, before pulling out a relatively short, black lace dress and wordlessly pushing it into Natasha's hands. Without needing to ask, she disappeared to put it on, though she wore a rather perplexed expression. I then scoured around the bottom of her closet, before picking out a pair of ankle-height, black, heeled boots.

I placed her shoes on the ground, before pulling the dress Pepper had picked out for me (because I had no idea what sort of things I should be wearing for a night light this) and hurriedly changing into it. Natasha stood patiently while I pulled on the outrageous pair of thigh high, lace-up, heeled boots that had been forced into my hands. Pepper had been a little sneaky with those - I hadn't even noticed she'd picked them out until she was paying for them, by which time, knowing her, it was too late to argue against her choice. So I just grit my teeth and went with it.

By the time I'd straightened, still mentally grumbling about the situation, Natasha looked about ready to kill to get answers. "So what's all this about?" she asked.

"Tony's hatched some elaborate plan to sort something out for your birthday - happy birthday, by the way - and he's roped _me_ into getting you out of the building for a few hours while he and the rest get things sorted." I shrugged. "So he's sending us to a freaking dance lounge."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "That's the best he could come up with?"

I sighed. "In fairness to him, considering how early in the evening it is, I'm surprised he managed to scrounge up anything as half-decent as _that_."

"And isn't this whole thing supposed to be a surprise? Hence all the cloak and dagger with getting me out of the Tower?"

I shrugged again. "I'm mad at him - I had to go _shopping_. Besides, you're smart, so you've probably already worked out that something like this was gonna happen."

Natasha had an almost unreadable expression on her face for a moment as she simply stared at me, before she blew out a long breath and averted her eyes. "Honestly," she murmured, "I forgot it's my birthday."

"I know," I murmured, stepping towards her and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Birthday's don't really factor into a life like yours or mine used to be, but we're not part of that world anymore. And, as much as they irritate the hell out of you, the fact that people are going to all this trouble just to celebrate this seemingly normal day just means you're a step further away from that life."

"It'll never leave me alone though," Natasha whispered sadly, her hand twitching towards her stomach before she frowned and consciously yanked it away, but I still noticed.

I nodded. "Today's not just the anniversary of your birth, I know that." I stepped back and smiled. "So what do you say we go to this dance place, get absolutely smashed, and then do something stupid like jump in the Hudson to sober up."

Natasha laughed, the heavy weight on her shoulders seemingly to dissipate. "You can't get drunk," she pointed out.

I smirked smugly. "Au contraire, ma chère," I countered. "Or have you forgotten that, during our rather chaotic visiting session last month, Volstagg brought a large case of Asgardian liquor? It takes some of the strongest stuff they've got, and I'll need to have a near-constant flow of it, but I can very much get drunk."

Natasha's face split into a grin. "And I don't suppose you brought any with you today?"

"As a matter of fact, yes I did."


	14. 14 - It's All About The Strategy

**A/N: As promised, the second half. Over 4,000 words of badassery :3**

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* * *

 **14 - It's All About The Strategy**

I hadn't ever seen Natasha quite as drunk as this before, and it was a little bit of a shock to learn she was a very cheerful, horrifically _giggly_ drunk. I'd been drunk about an hour ago, but then she grabbed me by the hands and pulled me onto the dance floor along with the thirty or so others that were crowded into the small space. Within fifteen minutes the effects of the alcohol were wearing off on me, though Nat seemed as drunk as ever. She was befriending total strangers, joking and giggling with them like she'd known them for years.

I'd returned to our table, sipping at a drink of regular, human ale, while Natasha stumbled around with a tall man who looked to be about a decade younger than her, though neither seemed to care. As I watched her from afar, a man I didn't know - hadn't even spotted before now - sat himself down on the seat opposite me.

"Y'alright there, hun?" he slurred, a fine sheen of sweat forming on his brow. He was so completely hammered he was likely seeing triple by this point.

"Perfectly fine, thank you," I replied lightly, though only for his benefit. Underneath I was a sea of tension, because from across the room I could see Natasha's dance partner was beginning to grow a little more exploratory with his hands.

"Y'here alone then?" the man asked, seemingly not noticing my distant attention.

"No, I'm here with a friend."

"Girl friend? Guy friend? Hot date?" He was pushing it a little, and once I realised that Natasha was perfectly fine and wasn't going to lash out (resulting in us getting kicked from the dance lounge), I shifted my gaze to him. He had to be around thirty, with a mop of sandy blonde hair and a clean-shaven chin. His eyes were a muted brown.

I narrowed my eyes at him when he leaned a little closer, either far too eager to hear my response or losing coherence from the amount he'd clearly been drinking. "It's my friend's birthday. She's over there." He shifted his eyes over to Nat, grunting slightly when he saw her.

"What 'bout you then? No one to dance with?"

I scowled at him when he tried to shift closer to me in his chair, though he didn't have much success, losing his balance halfway through and having to cling to the table to stop himself from sliding off his chair. "No, but there's only one man I wish to dance with, so that's absolutely fine by me."

He grinned cockily. "And is that man me, by any chance?"

"No," I said, more sharply this time, "that man is my husband. Now find someone else to bother, and leave me alone."

"Aw, come on, hun, can't you give a guy just one chance?" He was beginning to sound like he was whining, which had my expression turning to stone. If there was one thing I hated, it was someone who whined when things didn't go their way.

I leaned forward, and in my harshest, coldest voice, I told him, "I'd just like to tell you that you are probably over 120 years younger than me. I fought in the Second World War, buddy, right alongside the Howling Commandos. I taught Captain America how to fight; I helped to take down Hydra; I was there, fighting, when Ultron turned a city into an asteroid; I was shaped and manipulated into a killer by Hydra when I was sixteen. And do you know what else?" The man's face was now much paler, and he was starting to inch away from me. I smirked. "I married the Winter Soldier." With that, he backed out of the sea and then stumbled away, almost tripping over another table as he did so. I leaned back in my chair, feeling rather pleased with myself.

"You're such a spoilsport, you know that?" Natasha slid into the chair next to mine, clutching a piece of paper in her hand. From what little I could see past the tight grip of her fingers, the paper contained a phone number.

I chuckled at her comment, shaking my head. "I don't care - I wasn't gonna dance with someone as completely smashed as that regardless of whether or not I'm in a committed relationship." I nudged her. "So what about you, Nat? Who was that guy you were dancing with?"

"Oh, him?" She waved me off. "Just some guy. Don't really know his name."

"Yet you appear to be holding his number."

She blinked, then looked down at the scrap of paper in her hand. "Oh." She blinked again, then giggled. "Honestly," she whispered loudly, "I thought he was giving me a raffle ticket or something."

Chortling to myself, I got up. "Come on," I said firmly, "let's get that alcohol out of your system before we get the go-ahead from Stark to come back."

"You said jump in the Hudson, right?" Natasha followed me out without complaint, though she stumbled slightly at the door. For someone usually so coordinated, it was really weird seeing her so clumsy. "Which way is it from here?"

"I wasn't being quite a literal as that, Nat," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"No, but I want to do it now," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me off down one of the many roads surrounding us. While there was no way in hell I was going to jump in the river in the middle of winter, I couldn't deny that seeing Nat do it would be quite the memory.

We reached the river fairly quickly - though quite how Natasha managed to navigate this place when she was so completely out-of-her-mind drunk was beyond me - and without preamble Natasha began to wriggle out of her shoes.

"What are you doing?"

"Well," she said, shoving her boots into my hands and then undoing the zip at the back of her dress, "if I'm gonna get wet, I don't want to have to wear wet clothes all the way back to the Tower, do I?" After shoving her dress at me, leaving her just in the bare minimum, she raced towards the closest pier and then vaulted over the edge. It took a few moments for me to register that she'd _actually done it_ , before I placed her stuff down on a nearby bench and walked over to the river.

She resurfaced just as I got there, looking borderline furious. I wordlessly offered a hand down to her, and hoisted her over the side. I then wrapped my coat around her shoulders and walked her now-shivering body to the bench with her clothes.

"I must admit," I said cautiously as we sat down, "I didn't think you were serious about jumping in."

Natasha gave me the stoniest of all glares in history. "You could have stopped me," she grumbled, wrapping the coat tighter around her and using it to both keep her warm and dry her off.

I shrugged. "It was effective in sobering you up, if nothing else." As if responding to those words, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out a quickly read over the text from Tony. "Sounds like everything's ready at the Tower. You ready to go back?"

She nodded. "That man had better have a good reason for chucking us out like this."

I shrugged, grinning cheekily at her. "Well, if nothing else, you managed to snag the number of a rather cute guy, so it's not like you came away empty handed."

She just shot me that glare again.

* * *

I stared at the scrappy piece of paper taped to the inside of the elevator door in shock. "Really?" I couldn't help but ask. "Paintballing? _That's_ his big idea?"

Natasha shrugged. "Makes sense - it's something Clint and I used to do. Now there are more of us, maybe it'll be more interesting." She glanced at the paper. "And it looks like you and I have been put on the same team."

The paper did indeed have all the pairs listed, and it was with no small amount of shock that I noted, "Kaia's here?"

"Looks like it, and she's brought Mason too," Natasha mumbled, tugging at the hem of her dress.

"What about Pietro and Wanda? They're not here on the list - are they not coming back?"

Natasha shook her head. "They wanted to be here, from what they told me before they left, but they got called out by the new S.H.I.E.L.D. to help with a mission in Sokovia. Something about them being native, I guess. They left two days ago, and aren't expected back until Thursday." She hummed. "Vision, Laura and the kids aren't playing either, by the looks of things, though that makes sense." Natasha grimaced, pulling at her dress again. "Okay, I'm going to have to insist we change before we go down to the basement. This dress is starting to drive me crazy."

I nodded. "Agreed." I read through the paper again. "Looks like standard rules apply, except if you tap someone on the back with your gun without them noticing beforehand, apparently they're automatically commandeered by your team to fight for your team."

Natasha smirked. "Sounds good. So, who are our main targets?"

"Well," I mused, "Steve and Bucky obviously have the additional bonus of having enhanced senses, so they're likely to hear you coming. Not to mention they've been fighting alongside each other since the Dark Ages."

Natasha huffed in amusement at that, with a look in her eye that easily read as: _So have you._

I shrugged. "You get my point," I muttered dismissively. "Kaia's got the same sensory benefit, but Mason doesn't." The doors open, and the two of us stepped onto Nat's floor. "We don't know Mason's fighting style though, so I think we should come back to those two once we're a bit more certain about what we're doing about the others."

"So that leaves Stark and Clint," Natasha said, pushing open her closet and disappearing inside it, while I sat myself down on her bed. "Clint will go for the sniper rifle - he always does. That'll leave Tony as their short-range fighter."

"He's more than likely going to just blunder in without thinking first," I pointed out. "It'd probably be smarter to just take him out, rather than get him on our team. He might be a good shot, but he's not a good team player."

"Right, so we shoot Tony." Natasha appeared again, having changed so quickly I was surprised, but she'd only pulled on a plain top and trousers - clothing I knew could easily get paint-stained and she wouldn't give a damn. "Steve and Bucky are our biggest threats. We should either take them out as quickly and subtly as possible, or aim to increase our team and then go for a frontal assault."

"For the latter, we'll want Clint on our side. He can give us aerial support, and if we can manage to push those two into the open then he can take them out."

Natasha nodded slowly. "Clint will obviously go for the highest ground, so he'll be difficult to sneak up on."

"We could create a diversion," I suggested as we once more got into the elevator, this time heading for mine and Bucky's floor. "We could use our plan to target Tony as a way to draw his eye. While one of us goes for Stark, the other can pin down Barton."

Natasha nodded. "Okay, so what about Kaia and Mason?"

"Like I said, Kaia's got the advantage of super senses. If we get Mason on our side, we can get him to pretend he's still on Kaia's team, and that should make it possible for him to get her on our side. That'll leave the five of us against Bucky and Steve."

"It's a good plan, but we also need to take into consideration what the others are going to do." The doors opened, and we stepped out together. "You know the dream duo better than anyone. What can you suggest about their tactic?"

"Steve's always been the commander of the two of them," I said, pulling out a pair of combat trousers and a black tank top. "Bucky trusts him, so chances are he'll let Steve make most of the plan and just go along with it." I wriggled out of my dress and left it on the bed, before kicking off my shoes. "Steve will usually create a two-or-more part plan, usually starting with him going in first, alone. Probably as a distraction. Then Bucky will probably swoop in and take out their opponents. I doubt their strategy will be expanding their team - simply eliminating the enemy."

"So avoid Steve at all costs, and by doing so, chances our we won't run into Bucky either," Natasha summarised as I yanked my top over my head.

"It's pretty likely they'll go after us first," I muttered as I sat on the edge of my bed, rolling up my trousers and pulling on a pair of rubber boots - grippy, and light-weight enough that I could walk silently in them. "Just like they're ours, we're their biggest threat, so we have to stay alert." Natasha nodded. "So, if our first plan is to get Clint, do we meet up again afterwards?"

Natasha nodded. "Once Tony's taken care of, we should go back to where we were when we started. That can be our automatic base camp. Once Clint's on our side, you and I can regroup to find Mason and Kaia. After that, all that's left is to flush out the other two."

I nodded, pulling my hair into a ponytail and then grinning. "I think we're sorted. Ready?"

Natasha nodded. "Of course."

"Then let's go."

* * *

The guys had done a good job with the basement, turning it into a maze-like arena with various obstacles and vantage points. The lights were on full when Daphne and Natasha walked into the room, but both figured they wouldn't stay that way for long. Everyone else was already there waiting for them.

"You guys read over the rules of the game?" Tony asked, wearing his usual band t-shirt. He was the only one who hadn't changed from his usual clothing.

Natasha and Daphne both nodded, wearing identical expressions of emotionlessness.

"You two will start closest to the door," Steve told them. "Bucky and I will be at the opposite end. Kaia, Mason, you two will be to the right, while Clint and Tony will be to the left. There's not time limit on this game, it simply goes on until the last team is standing." Everyone nodded. "Since we have no helmets, try not to aim for the head or neck. Direct shots to the chest and back are direct kill shots. Anywhere requires a second shot to count."

Tony looked up at the ceiling. "FRIDAY, dim the lights in forty seconds. Count us down to the start of the match."

"Yes, sir."

He turned back to everyone else. "You'll have a selection of guns in your starting area. You can only have one weapon for the whole game, so choose carefully." With no more words spoken, everyone rushed to their starting positions, picking their choice weapons and then setting themselves up for the beginning.

Natasha and Daphne exchanged glances as they both picked up a pistol, jamming the weapon full of ammo and then picking up two spare pouches of paintballs each. "I'll get Tony," Natasha whispered as the lights dimmed.

"Ten."

"I've got Clint."

"Nine. Eight."

"Good luck," Natasha grinned, lowering herself into a crouch.

"Seven."

"Don't die," came the retort.

"Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One." A loud alarm blared through the room, and Natasha and Daphne split up.

Natasha moved straight towards the left hand side of the arena, watching closely as Daphne headed back, finding the safest route up to the highest point, where they were both certain Barton would be moving towards even as they headed to intercept their chosen targets. While she moved, Natasha kept her head down. She used the upturned cars and wooden walls and half-destroyed cement structures as cover, straining her ears for footsteps. It took almost a minute for the sound to reach her ears, and she ducked behind a window. She listened as the footsteps drew closer, then waited until they'd almost completely faded away, before she darted out. Stark's black hair and maroon shirt were easy to pick out even in the dark setting, and Natasha didn't hesitate before running to engage him.

Tony spun around with a jerk when he heard her, and the almost immediate shot that ricocheted off the wall behind her told her that Clint had spotted her. All she had to do was take down Tony and not get hit before Daphne had the chance to subdue Clint.

Meanwhile, Daphne was scaling as quietly as she could up the side of a watchtower. It had been placed in Tony and Clint's quadrant, so she knew without a shadow of a doubt this was where Clint would be. As she neared the top, she began to take even more care about her noise level, as she could hear Clint shifting even from here. She managed to curl her fingers around the base of the window, and peered over the top to see the man she was looking for crouched with a careful eye out of his own window, the sniper rifle in his hands steady and firm. Daphne knew he'd noticed something when he suddenly tensed, and not a moment later he fired a shot.

Daphne used the noise to cover her entrance into the little watchtower, and within two seconds she placed her hand over Clint's mouth and her gun against his back. He stiffened, then relaxed again. He turned to face her when she drew back. He grinned. "Nice work," he complimented in a whisper. "This doesn't seem random, though."

Daphne shook her head, before quickly telling him of her and Natasha's plan.

As she was climbing back down towards her and Natasha's starting point, FRIDAY's voice echoed over the dark room. "Player eliminated." And then, in a very Hunger Games-esque style, Tony's picture flashed up on the wall, along with the word 'TERMINATED' in large, red letters. A smirk crossed her lips.

Natasha and Daphne met behind their starting wall, nodding to one another to silently convey their success. They then headed towards Kaia and Mason's quarter, keeping low and covering each other's six. Daphne grabbed Natasha by the shoulder and yanked her down alongside a wall, both of them holding their breaths as Bucky crept past them, crouched almost as low as them and bearing what looked to be an assault rifle.

Daphne turned to Natasha with a questioning look, and after pursing her lips in thought for a moment, the redhead nodded. Daphne grinned, before peeling away from her partner and going after Bucky, while Natasha continued on as planned.

Daphne made sure to keep herself a safe distance from Bucky at first, trying to work out what his plan was. She kept a close eye on her six, too, wary of Steve sneaking up behind her. But the blonde was nowhere to be seen.

Bucky ducked behind a wall, and Daphne used this as her chance to get closer. She ducked behind a wall the moment it looked like Bucky might turn around, holding her breath and waiting for either muted footfalls or the smallest creak of leather, but she heard neither, so risked peeking out behind the wall again. Bucky had turned his back to her.

She slowly edged forward, only to almost jump out of her skin when FRIDAY once again announced, "Player eliminated." She didn't make the same mistake as Bucky, turning to see who had been taken out, and instead used the distraction against him. She used the same move as she did with Clint - covering his mouth and holding the gun against his back. Daphne then shifted slightly and whispered in her ear, "Hello, sweetheart."

She could feel the vibrations of Bucky's silent chuckle through her body. "I figured it would be you who caught me, if anyone," he murmured. He turned back to her, pecking her softly on the lips before asking, "So what's the plan, boss?"

"Head back to base, meet with Nat, Mason and Kaia, if her side of the plan worked."

Bucky shook his head. "Mason just got taken out," he whispered, nonetheless following her. "And Steve captured Kaia within the first minute of the game. She's on his team now."

"Guess that just leaves us, Nat, and Clint," Daphne mused.

Bucky yanked her behind a wall, frowning. "You got Clint?"

She smirked. "Of course. Believe it or not, darling, Natasha and I used the time it took us to change to hatch a plan. It's gone a bit pear-shaped now, but I think it remains largely unchanged. Now, come on. Before Nat starts to think we've been converted."

"I have," he pointed out with a grin, but Daphne only rolled her eyes.

The two reached the door just as Natasha did, but the redhead was alone, confirming Bucky's earlier words.

"It's just us four," Natasha hissed. "Same plan?"

Daphne nodded. "I'd say so. We're down Kaia and Mason, but we've got Bucky. If you ask me, we're about matched with what we planned."

Natasha nodded. "Good, then we're in agreement."

"Did Mason manage to pull the pretend I'm-on-your-team thing with Kaia?" Daphne asked.

Natasha shook her head. "No, Kaia shot him the moment she saw him."

"Then we can use it now," Bucky murmured, catching onto Daphne's train of thought. "As far as Steve's aware, I'm still on his team. I can regroup with him and Kaia, and try and direct him into an open area. There's no way I could take them both out on my own, element of surprise or not - they're both too fast for that. In an open space, you two can be waiting to face them off, we'll have Clint up top, and I can cut off their escape. They'll be completely surrounded."

Natasha and Daphne nodded their agreement to his plan, and without another word Bucky slipped away. Natasha glanced at Daphne. "An open space? You were up in the watchtower, what did you see?"

"There's an area in the middle of the course which just looks like a large courtyard. There's a fake well in the middle. That's our best shot."

Natasha nodded. "Okay, lead the way."

Nodding, Daphne gripped her pistol carefully and began making her way towards the courtyard-like area, knowing Natasha was close behind her. She made sure to keep their path random, rather than direct. She paused beside a wall, glancing ahead to see the well she'd mentioned before. She looked around and saw the watchtower almost directly ahead. With a glance back, she indicated for Natasha to go ahead and find a hiding spot. She pursed her lips and did so, darting from building to building so as to spend as little time in the open as possible.

Daphne, in the meantime, looked up at the watchtower, and the smallest flicker of light told her that Clint had directed his scope her way. She pointed wordlessly at the courtyard, and when the reflected light flickered out of sight, she knew he'd gotten her message.

Everything was silent for a few seconds.

Then, with quiet, steady steps, Bucky, gun raised, entered the courtyard. He made a show of looking around, his eyes skipping over hers and Natasha's hiding places, before he looked behind him and gestured behind him. Steve, carrying a semi-automatic pistol, and Kaia, carrying (unsurprisingly) a small SMG in hand, crept into sight. Bucky, having clocked the rest of his team members, moved to fill in the gap they'd missed, before everyone sprung out at once. Steve spun and fired a series of shots at Daphne the moment he noticed her, but she'd already fired. Her shot hit him square in the chest, while his hit her shoulder. Bucky also fired at Steve, hitting him in the back. Kaia went down with shots from Natasha and Clint, both of which hit her torso.

There was another moment of silence, before Kaia whirled on Bucky and growled out, "You traitorous bastard."

But Bucky just started laughing. And then so did Daphne. Soon everyone was laughing, even Kaia, though she still managed to grumble under her breath as she did.

The lights flickered back to life, and FRIDAY announced, "Game over," while everyone in the field just continued to laugh.


	15. 15 - Gifts and Surprises

**A/N: Slightly late, sorry. Bit of a sudden development in this chapter, hope you don't mind ;) Just like to inform you that Civil War will start (properly) in chapter 17, and also, that this story is turning out to be somewhat longer than I'd expected. Like five chapters longer, at least.**

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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: I wrote the damn thing, knew how it was gonna end, and even I was rooting for Team Stucky for a moment there.**

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 **15 - Gifts and Surprises**

After everyone stepped out of the basement to shower - Bucky and Daphne taking a suspiciously long time to do so - they reconvened in the penthouse suite for a round of gift-giving. It also gave Daphne the opportunity to finally meet Mason in person, and when she did she had been speechless for almost five minutes.

Kaia, of course, just smirked smugly when Daphne finally whirled on her and hissed, " _Liam Hemsworth!?_ "

"The duplicate," came Kaia's retort, before she left her astounded best friend alone.

Within half an hour they had all gathered together, sitting in Stark's large lounge space, giving Natasha her gifts. Unsurprisingly, most of them were weapons of some kind. Bucky and Daphne were amongst the last to hand their gift over, and when they did so everyone seemed surprised to note the small size of the box they passed her. Natasha shot them a confused look, before unwrapping the box and lifting the lid.

Inside was a necklace. The chain and charm were silver, and the charm itself was in the design of a Celtic rose, embedded with a single, green gemstone. Natasha smiled when she saw it. "It's beautiful," she said, immediately moving to fasten it around her neck.

"It's also multi-functional," Bucky said with a grin. "Daphne went up to Asgard to have it commissioned."

Natasha blinked. "So I'm wearing an alien necklace?"

Daphne chuckled and leaned forward. "In Asgard, while it's rare, certain materials can be charmed by magic-users to have certain properties. Yours has three. The chain itself can be used to change your voice. It creates an almost immediate link to you voice box and your mind, and connects one to the other. You can use it to change your voice. Simply imagine whose voice it is you want to hear, and it can change the harmonic frequencies of the sounds your voice box produces, thus making you sound like someone else."

"So if I wanted to sound like you, all I'd have to do was... think?"

"Essentially," Daphne agreed. Natasha's smile widened slightly.

"But that's not the only thing it does," Bucky put in, resting his hand on her leg when Daphne settled back against the sofa cushion. "The green gem in the middle of the necklace is detachable - just pull in out of its case; it should come free fairly easily." Natasha did exactly that, peering closer at the stone. "Locked inside that stone is a liquid tranquilliser which becomes an invisible gas the moment it touches solid ground. It can knock out anyone in an area of about sixty square metres in thirty seconds. But the best bit is, that necklace is your antidote. The charm on the end will protect you from most human and some non-human toxic gases, including the one inside the gem."

Natasha's expression was completely astounded. "How much did this set you back?"

Daphne chuckled. "Well, things on Asgard work a little differently. The necklace wasn't that much - commissioning anything from a blacksmith without some kind of enchantment is rather cheap. The gem was a little more costly, but the woman I bought it from knows me well, so she allowed me to get it discounted. As for the additional effects, well, that just required a 25-year-old IOU being cashed in." She shrugged. "The most it cost was time, to be honest. I had that in progress for almost a month."

"Thank you." There was a thickness to Natasha's voice that everybody could hear, but no one commented on it. Instead, Pietro leaned forward with his own gift in hand, and everyone turned their attention to the next thing Natasha was to be given.

Bucky placed his lips at Daphne's ear and whispered, "I think that went well."

Hiding a huff of laughter, Daphne glanced back at him and replied, equally quiet, "What makes you think that, sweetheart?" Bucky grinned crookedly, squeezing her leg in a half-hearted scolding for the heavily sarcastic tone she'd used.

Natasha was just about to open her last gift when FRIDAY interrupted them. "Sorry to disturb you, but it seems Miss Barnes is awake and in distress."

Daphne groaned, but nonetheless sent Natasha an apologetic look and stood up to attend to Vera. A moment later, however, she stopped in her tracks, blinking away the dizziness that assaulted her as she moved. For the slightest of moments, she saw black creeping in at the side of her vision, before the feeling faded away and her body settled back to normal.

"You alright, Daffy?" Tony asked, frowning at her as she just stood as still as a statue.

"Fine," she murmured, a dazed note to her voice. "Just got a little light-headed." Then she turned to look at Bucky, who, like her, had grown completely motionless in his chair, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide with shock. Then, as if responding to the same thought, the two raced out of the room, shouting to one another in frantic Russian.

Natasha, being the only other in the group to understand Russian, quickly had every pair of eyes in the room directed her way.

"What did they say?" Steve asked, concern coating his voice. He was debating with himself over whether or not to follow after the two, but while part of him was screaming at him to just go, the other half of him reasoned that, if they'd wanted someone to follow, they'd have said so before disappearing.

Natasha looked almost confused as everyone else. "They were talking about checking rooms," she told them. "Specifically theirs and Stark's."

"Mine?" Tony queried, frowning. "What the hell would they want from _my_ room?"

No one had an answer for that. While they were all curious about the rather sudden departure of their friends, they continued on with Natasha's birthday, though not one of them could say they weren't a little bit distracted from the event. It was unusual for the two assassins to slip back into Russian, and they usually only did so when hit by sudden and strong surges of emotion.

It was almost five minutes before the two of them appeared again, but it wasn't in the way anyone expected. Usually when the two had a sudden moment, they'd sort things out between them and then be back to normal once they showed their faces. This time they were arguing, loudly, and still in Russian.

When the doors opened for them, they were giving each other sharp looks, their voices slipping into hisses and snarls. Natasha furrowed her brows as she tried to keep up with their argument, forgetting that everyone was expecting her to translate. They went from topic to topic randomly, or so it seemed. Alcohol, to deciding whose fault _it_ was, to some kind of plan of Daphne's, and finally settling on the fact she'd once gone back in time.

It took a while, by which time their argument had come to a somewhat calm ending, but then Natasha finally made the connection between these seemingly random subjects. Without thought she sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth and whispered, "Oh my God."

* * *

I raced into Stark's room, heading straight for his bathroom, and then began frantically digging through the cupboards, picking through boxes and bottles, cursing under my breath when I didn't find what I was looking for. I ran back to the stairs, knowing my patience wouldn't allow for use of the lift, and then almost crashed onto our floor. I saw Bucky already standing in the corridor, cradling a sniffling Vera in one arm. Without a word he chucked me a small box, and after catching it I raced into the bathroom.

With shaking fingers, I pulled the little white stick out of its box, and for a moment I just stared at it, heart pounding in my chest. I never thought this would happen again. After last time, I'd almost given up hope, but could it really be possible that I was pregnant again? Dizziness was a common problem during my pregnancy with Vera - almost exclusively, since I didn't usually get dizzy. I had the serum to thank for that.

Swallowing back my nerves, I quickly got moving again.

Bucky knocked softly on the door a couple minutes later, then silently slipped inside. "Vera's gone back to sleep," he told me quietly, stepping closer to me and rubbing my back. I was leaning over the sink, eyes fixed on the test in front of me. "Still waiting?" he asked.

I sighed, nodding. "Why do these things have to take so long?" I couldn't help but smile when Bucky wordlessly wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. My hands overlapped with his on my stomach. I glanced up at him, and his eyes shifted to meet mine. His face was slightly paler than normal, but there was a hint of a smile curling at his lips. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I accused playfully.

He hummed, grinning mischievously. "It's not often I get to see you so flustered; I can't deny it's a sight I like to make the most of when it appears."

I shook my head, turning my eyes back to the sink. "Ass," I grumbled, and then froze solid when I saw the two little pink lines on the test. Positive. I blew out a long breath and cursed quietly.

Bucky chuckled, giving me a small squeeze. "Congratulations, sweetheart," he muttered, pressing a kiss against my temple.

I hummed. "You too."

We were silent for a moment longer, both of us just mulling this over in our heads, before Bucky pulled back. "Come on," he said, grasping my hand. "Regardless of what's happened for us today, it's still Natasha's birthday, and we're being very poor guests by being absent to that."

I chuckled. "Good to see all your mum's hard work paying off," I teased.

"You know about that?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I met your mother a few times over the years. First time was back in '46, I think. Very charming woman, very proud of you."

Bucky smiled fondly at the memory of his mother. "Yeah, she was great. Can't remember a single person she couldn't get along with. Except Uncle Clive - but then again, everyone hated him." I chuckled as we began to climb up tot he top floor, both of us silently agreeing that taking the lift wasn't the best option right now. Bucky hesitated a moment, pursing his lips, before biting the bullet and asking, "How far along do you think you are?"

For a moment I thought about it, going through the symptoms and comparing them with last time. "About a month," I decided. "Which probably means junior came along on-"

"Our wedding anniversary," Bucky finished with a hint of a smile. "Figures." Then he suddenly froze, his foot hovering above the step in front of him before he slowly put it down, turning to me with a serious frown. "When you went out with Natasha, how much did you drink?"

I bit my lip. "Quite a lot," I admitted. "Enough to get me drunk for a while."

Bucky swore under his breath in Russian. "We ought to make sure you didn't do any damage."

I blinked. "What?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "I know what alcohol can do to an unborn kid, Daphne. I've seen it more times than I care to admit. I'm not letting that happen to our child."

"You really think that's what _I_ want?"

"Of course not," he said, his voice growing harder. "But you probably drank enough tonight to kill an ordinary person, let alone a baby."

My face flashed with outrage, and without realising I slipped into Russian. " _You think I intended to do that?_ "

He shook his head. "That's not what I meant-"

" _Well it's damn well what you implied,_ " I hissed, stepping past him and heading back up the stairs. " _Am I suddenly not trustworthy enough to look after my own child?_ "

" _I didn't say that. But I want to get it checked just in case-_ "

" _Just in case I killed it by accident?_ " I shot back, nostrils flaring when I sensed him growing closer to me. " _I didn't know, James. I know now, and I'll be more careful. Don't you dare assume I would deliberately do that._ " We were drawing closer to the penthouse suite, and I was sure that the others would be able to hear us by now.

" _I assumed nothing of the sort. You're careful, and I know that. But with how much alcohol you put in your system tonight, it stands to reason that something could have happened._ "

" _Don't you think I would have noticed if it had?_ " I snarled, pushing open the door. Bucky reached forward and caught me by the arm, pulling me back to face him. His eyes were cold, his expression hard to read.

" _You got dizzy,_ " he reminded me. " _Could that not be a sign you drank too much?_ "

" _Don't forget my body can burn through alcohol very quickly, James. Chances of something having gone wrong are slim._ "

" _And you think it's okay to just assume that without checking?_ " he challenged, narrowing his eyes. " _I don't want to leave anything to chance._ "

" _Chance?_ " I scoffed. " _Well you should have thought of that before you-_ "

" _Hold on, are you saying this is my fault?_ "

" _Well, you can't deny it wouldn't have happened without your personal input._ "

Bucky rolled his eyes. " _Right,_ " he drawled, " _as if you're not equally to blame for this._ "

I shrugged. " _I'm just saying-_ "

" _I know what you're saying,_ " he cut in. " _Believe me, I know perfectly well. We've been through this once before, remember?_ " He shook his head. " _That's not it, I know it isn't. There's something else. Daphne, tell me what it is._ "

I glared at him, in equal parts relieved and pissed off that he could read me so well. " _The next part of the story happens in April, Bucky. It could be one of the most important parts of the whole thing, for all I know, and it's only five months away._ "

" _Which is why you're blaming me,_ " he concluded. " _My timing has ruined your plans._ "

" _I don't have any plans,_ " I hissed, before deflating a little. " _Not in detail, anyway. I don't know what'll happen anymore. I'm working with what I've got, but now... with this throwing a spanner in the works..._ "

" _I hardly think something like this would pin you back,_ " he scoffed. " _Come on, Daphne, I know you better than that. So what if something unexpected has disrupted things a little? That's never stopped you before - or have you forgotten you once got sent back to 1937 with no absolutely way back?_ "

For a while we just stared at each other. He was right, and we both knew it. But dammit, this was a complication I hadn't factored into any of my theories, and I thought I'd gone through _everything._ And that freaked me out. Besides, I was notoriously bad at keeping the life under my heart safe from my own body. Bucky stepped forward, clearly sensing my dropping mood, and wrapped his arms around me. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding, burying my face in his shoulder. There was just something so comforting about the warmth and solidity of his frame, the way he almost completely swallowed my body with his.

"I'm scared, Bucky," I admitted quietly. "So many things could go wrong, and by the time April comes around I'll be six months in. I won't be able to help-"

"I think you underestimate the power you hold when you're pregnant," he said with a quiet chuckle, running his fingers through my hair. "If people find you terrifying normally, they've another thing coming if they want to dare cross paths with you when you're carrying an extra person inside you."

I hummed, feeling my lips curling into a hesitant smile. "So you think I could just shout them into submission?"

"I don't doubt it in the slightest," he replied, and I could hear he was also smiling now. "Honestly, when you were pregnant with Vera, you even scared _me_ at times."

Chuckling, I tightened my hold on him slightly. My face dropped. "What if I fail?" I whispered.

He pulled away, frowning at me. "What do you mean?"

"I don't have the Stone to keep the baby safe anymore, Bucky. What if-"

"If it happens, I'll help you through it," he promised, pressing his lips to the crown of my head. "But you've gotta have more faith in yourself, sweetheart. I'm sure everything will be absolutely fine. You'll solve every problem thrown at you, and you'll come out at the over end with every reason to hold your head high."

"But what if it does?" I pushed, and he let out a sigh, the corners of his eyes softening.

He placed his hands on my cheeks, gently cradling my face. "We'll cross that bridge if it happens. Only then. Promise me you won't think about it too much. Don't worry yourself sick about it, because I know you'll try. Please, just trust that what'll happen is what's supposed to happen. Try not to think too far ahead, okay?"

I sighed, but nodded. "I'll try," I promised. He nodded and pulled me into another hug. I wrapped my arms around him so they rested by the small of his back, noting his were in the same position around me, and just stood there for a moment. Taking him in for all he was worth, memorising (as I'd done a thousand times over) his warmth, his build, his scent... Everything I could.

"Bucky."

"Hmm?"

"We're having a baby."

His arms tightened on me, and he buried his head in my hair. I could feel his smile against the skin of my shoulders. "I know," he whispered, in such a reverential tone that I was suddenly blazed with determination. If I failed, I wouldn't be the only one who would suffer the loss of another child. So would Bucky; my perfect Bucky. And there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen without fighting first. I couldn't do that to him. Not if there was any will in me to stop it.

Predictably, Stark's voice broke us out of our moment. "Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?"

Bucky and I pulled back, grinned at each other, shared a brief kiss, and then turned to tell everyone the news. My eyes immediately met Natasha's, and the soft, tearful smile on her face told me she'd already worked it all out. I thought this would sadden her, remind her of what she couldn't have, and maybe it did. But when I looked at that smile, and the veil of forbidden tears in her eyes, all I could see was delight. Delight for us. And that made me more thrilled than I could possibly express.


	16. 16 - The Wait

**A/N: This is structured in a slightly different way to normal - it's more like the letter chapters I used in Upon The Edge Of Glory. Hope you don't mind, but it gets us through the months whilst giving a little insight to what Daphne's pregnancy is shaping up to be like.**

 **Big thanks to flowing-words1998 and cutelittlekitten18 for following/favouriting.**

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* * *

 **16 - The Wait**

 _December_

Bucky sat patiently on the floor of the bathroom, rubbing Daphne's back as she heaved up her breakfast. Her hand was gripping his thigh hard enough that he was beginning to lose feeling in his calf and foot, but, of course, he didn't take the risk of actually _telling_ her this. He'd made that mistake last time.

He also knew that he would receive hell if he didn't have a small plate of food ready for her in the next fifteen minutes, so the moment she stopped violently throwing up he was on his feet and heading for the kitchen; though not before making a detour into the living room to check on Vera, Pietro and Wanda. Wanda was helping Vera sort a bunch of wooden blocks into shapes, whilst Pietro was passed out on the couch, snoring contentedly. With a sly smirk, Bucky picked up a cushion from the empty chair and threw it at Pietro's face, startling the boy awake and making him fall off the couch, much to the amusement of the others.

He then conveniently missed the moody glare Pietro shot his way.

By the time Daphne re-emerged from the bathroom, weakly pulling her hair back into a sloppy ponytail, Bucky was just dishing up a bowl of mac and cheese. Daphne smiled at him, planted a kiss on his cheek, and then tucked in without a word.

"I have a question," Pietro called from the lounge, and Bucky immediately tensed, sensing this to be some form of retribution for the manner in which he'd woken the kid up. "What's the plan for Christmas?"

Daphne frowned. "What's the date?" she asked slowly.

Pietro checked the flashy new watch that Tony had given him a week previously (it was a prototype, and he'd asked Pietro to test it out). "December 17th," he answered.

Freezing with her fork halfway to her mouth, Daphne gave Bucky a wide-eyed look. "Please tell me you didn't forget it's Christmas in a week."

Bucky couldn't help but feel smug as he answered, "I've organised gifts for everyone except Stark - figured you'd have more success thinking of something to give a guy who could literally buy whatever he wanted - and we're going up to the Tower on the 23rd. We're set to stay until the 27th. Despite Stark's numerous protests, I didn't think you'd really want to be there for New Year."

Daphne let out a breath of relief. "You're a God, you know that?" she said, digging back into her quickly cooling meal, though she didn't seem to care.

He smirked, relishing in the petulant expression on Pietro's face at the failure of his plan. "You may have mentioned it once or twice," he teased, kissing her temple as he came to stand beside her.

* * *

 _January_

"Did we really have to bring so many people along for this?" Bucky couldn't help but complain as he and Daphne - followed by literally _everyone_ else - were led through the winding corridors of the hospital.

Daphne smirked back at him. "You're welcome to try to fight them on it if you want, but I've already had an hour long argument with Tony about it, and you _know_ how stubborn I can be. He's absolutely determined."

"Which of course means that, because Tony's coming along, everyone else gets an automatic spot." He sighed. "Can we at least get them to stay outside while the ultrasound is happening? I don't want an audience the first time I see my child."

Chuckling, Daphne nodded. "They only let the parents in for these things. The guys know that - but they've insisted we get at least a dozen pictures printed out."

The doctor walking in front of us directed us into a small room, and then with a firm voice she said, "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait outside. _No exceptions_." Then with one final sharp look, she followed us in, snapping the door shut firmly behind her. She turned to us with a smile as I settled on the white bed next to the ultrasound machine. "Seems you have a lot of eager friends out there," she noted with a grin as she began setting up the machine.

"Too eager, if you ask me," Bucky grumbled. "You'd think she was carrying _their_ child, not mine."

Daphne patted his knee. "Just shows they care about us," she reminded him. "Besides, they might as well be family." He let out a breath, but smiled slightly and nodded, before grasping my hand gently in his.

"So," the doctor asked, "is this your first child?"

"No," Daphne said with a smile, "second."

"So you've done all this before?"

Daphne nodded. "Yeah, quite a few times."

She smiled. "Okay then, seems I won't have to explain things to you." She pulled out a tube of the ultrasound gel while Daphne pulled up her shirt, before applying it to the base of her stomach. She then picked up the white probe in her hand and pressed it against her skin. A fuzzy image appeared on the screen. For a few seconds the doctor shifted the probe, before pausing, squinting at the screen slightly. Then she smiled and tilted the screen further towards the waiting couple.

Both of them eyed the image closely, smiling when they saw the curled up form of their child in the centre of the screen. "Is it-?"

"Yep," Bucky confirmed with a grin. "It's shy, it seems." Their baby was covering its face with its hands, and looked to be taking up as little space as possible.

"Let's see if we can get it to move," the doctor muttered, beginning to draw little patterns in the same small area on Daphne's belly. After a few moments, the baby began to shift very slightly. It moved its hands and straightened, clearly trying to avoid the pressure of the probe. Neither parent could keep their smiles from widening, each of them simultaneously tightening their grips on the other's hand. The doctor turned to them with a grin. "Do you want to know the gender?" she asked.

Bucky and Daphne exchanged a glance, smiling to one another and then answering together, "Yeah."

The doctor's grin softened slightly. "Congratulations," she said with a genuine tone of warmth in her voice, "you're having a boy."

* * *

 _February_

Bucky groaned as he flopped onto the sofa beside Daphne, who was contentedly snacking on a large bowl of curly fries. Without a word she offered him the bowl, and he smiled gratefully at her, before taking a small handful.

"What's the problem?" she asked him, turning her gaze back to where Vera was slowly pulling herself to her feet, with the help of the other chair. She'd taken her first few steps two weeks ago, and could now almost be called a confident walker. Her persistence and determination - coupled with the additional strength she'd inherited from her two serum-enhanced parents - meant she was learning far faster than most babies. She now seemed to have challenged herself to climb on top of the chair, and had been attempting to do that for the last fifteen minutes, under the watchful eye of a rather sleepy German shepherd. She'd gotten close once, but then she'd slipped. She'd landed comfortably on her feet, and then proceeded to sit down and stare at the chair, as if mentally trying to figure out how to do it. This was her twelfth attempt.

Bucky sighed. "Just got a call from your S.H.I.E.L.D. friends-"

"Hey, they're your friends too, buster."

Bucky gave her a look, but she just smiled innocently at him and then ate another curly fry. He rolled his eyes fondly. "They've asked to spend a few hours here to shake off their pursuers."

Daphne huffed. "What did you say?"

"I told them it was fine as long as they landed at least five miles from here. Don't want to draw unfriendly eyes too close to this place."

Nodding her approval, Daphne let out a grunt and leaned forward, depositing the now-empty bowl on the floor. Her growing bump was clearly a hindrance, but she didn't say anything, and neither did he. She then curled up against him, tucking her legs up on the couch while he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "So I've been thinking about some potential names," Daphne started, and Bucky couldn't help but laugh.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" he asked in a teasing voice, rubbing his metal arm over her stomach.

She scoffed. "You say that as if it's never crossed your mind," she countered, and all he could do was shrug because he had, in truth, thought about it from time to time.

"What names have you considered then?"

She hummed. "Well, all sorts, really. I considered Steve for a while, but decided that probably wasn't the best idea, cause he'd probably start trying to mimic the original Steve and then we'd end up with another one of those. One's plenty for me, I think."

Bucky found himself nodding. "Definitely do not need another of those in the world. I don't want to have to follow him around once he's old enough just to make sure he's not jumping into every back alley brawl he can."

"Glad we're in agreement." She placed her hand over his, weaving their fingers together over her belly. "I also considered Cormac, after my brother, before remembering he was a little shit and realising I do __not__ want my son to end up like him."

"Why don't you tell me which names you like, rather than all the names you've considered, hmm?" Bucky cut in, smiling at her incessant rambling.

"You asked," she grumbled defensively, before huffing. "I've narrowed it down to three, so far," she told him. "Lucas, or Luke, mainly so you can re-enact the 'Luke, I am your father' thing from Star Wars." Bucky snorted in amusement, figuring all of her three choice names so far would have similar reasons to them. "Frye, after the twins, though I'm not so sure about that one."

"As with Steve, I think we should stick with just the originals," Bucky murmured, rubbing her skin with his thumb. No matter how many times he saw her each day, the fact that she once again held his child under her heart would never cease to completely amaze him.

Daphne nodded. "You're probably right."

He nudged her. "So go on, then, what's the third one?"

"Jace," she replied, biting her lip.

"And from which book or movie did that name come?" he asked with a knowing expression when she glanced up at him, grinning sheepishly.

She settled back against him, letting out a long breath. "You know when Kaia and I call ourselves _parabatai_?" Bucky nodded, already sure he knew where this was going. "The book series where that originated has a character called Jonathan Christopher, and he shortens it to Jace. Now, I personally don't really like either Jonathan or Christopher, but Jace is nice. I looked it up - it means 'healer'."

Bucky hummed thoughtfully. "It's not bad," he agreed. "Unusual, though maybe that's not a bad thing."

Daphne chuckled. "We named our daughter Vera, remember?"

"Touché," he chuckled. "I'll think about it," he promised. "In the meantime, we have some guests to prepare for."

Daphne waved him off. "You do that," she mumbled distractedly. "I've sworn myself over to encouraging Vera in her quest to climb the chair."

Bucky glanced over at their daughter to see she was once again seated on the floor, staring up at her obstacle with a thoughtful frown on her face. Felix was now curled up in a ball, snoozing silently, though his ears still twitched when he heard even the smallest noise. Bucky chuckled and planted a kiss on Daphne's head, before murmuring, "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

 _March_

"James Buchanan Barnes, you'd better tell your son to stop wriggling or so help me God I will-"

"On it," Bucky grumbled, still groggy from his suddenly interrupted sleep, though this was hardly rare nowadays. He limply rolled over and then pushed himself into a sitting position. Daphne then dragged herself over to him until her head was resting on his legs. Bucky placed his hand on Daphne's stomach, and felt his slight irritation at being woken up fade away when he felt the movement beneath his fingers. "You've gotta stop doing this, little guy," he murmured, starting to draw patterns over Daphne's belly. "Your mommy needs her sleep, and so do I, you know. I know you're excited to meet us, we're excited too, but you've gotta be patient. Your mom's giving up a lot to keep you safe, you know, so you need to at least let her rest. Yeah?" The movement under his hand was starting to slow. One thing they'd learnt after the baby started moving was that he liked the sound of Bucky's voice - or, at the very least, it calmed him down.

Daphne shifted her hand and started drawing a similar pattern on her stomach, her finger and his weaving around one another as if they were dancing. The baby began to calm even more. "He's going to be as much as a fidget as Vera," Daphne noted with a smile.

Bucky chuckled. "And whose fault is that?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I'm nowhere near as bad as I used to be," she defended, though the grin on her face told her she really didn't mind his teasing.

"You're not the one who gets woken up in the night to find they've been pushed into the last two feet of the bed," he said, poking her arm gently. She smacked him in the chest in return. As if trying to get his own opinion in, their baby kicked against their motionless hands, and both of them chuckled. "Don't worry," Bucky said, rubbing her belly firmly, "we haven't forgotten you."

"That would be impossible in my case," Daphne grumbled, though there was no real bite to her words. She sighed, smiling. "Well, he seems to have settled at least." She glanced up at him. "Sorry to have woken you."

"It's fine," he assured her. "At this point, I'm used to it."

Daphne's expression remained sheepish, but she nonetheless allowed him to pull the duvet over the top of them, and the two fell asleep with her cradled in his arms.

* * *

 _April_

Daphne let out a groan as she watched Felix running wild in their large field, barking happily whenever he spotted (and consequently began chasing) an animal hiding in the long grass. She missed being able to run alongside him, feeling the wind in her hair and the grass whipping around her legs. Now she was lucky to get away with the walk to the stables to look after the horses.

Bucky came up beside her, both of them glancing down when Vera toddled up to them, cramming her way in between their legs and then clinging to them with a pretty strong grip for someone so small. She looked up and grinned at them. The pain of teething had long since passed for her, and now she had a full mouth of healthy, white teeth. Her hair was also longer, having thickened significantly in the last month or so.

"What's up, Princess?" Bucky asked, stooping to pick her up and then balancing her on his hip. Daphne smiled softly at the sight. For such a strong and large man, seeing him holding something so small and precious was adorable, and he looked so at home with Vera in his arms. She only hoped their newest addition would fit so well into their life.

"Uncle Stoo on TV," she said, playing with the string on Bucky's jacket.

Exchanging a wide-eyed glance, Bucky and Daphne immediately headed inside, the latter calling Felix back to the house. They reached the living room just as the German shepherd trotted inside, tongue lolling out of his mouth. On the screen was a week-old news report showing a building on fire, along with shots of Sam, Steve, Natasha and Wanda helping to move the injured and the dead. Despite this, the caption on the bottom was anything but friendly towards their teammates.

"I guess they found him," Bucky mumbled, sliding his hand into Daphne's and giving it a firm squeeze.

"We knew they would," Daphne replied, biting her lip. "I didn't realise that this would be the thing to trigger everything else, though."

Bucky glanced over at her, noticing her tense shoulders. "So this is it?" he asked her. "The start of the next chapter, as it were?"

Daphne nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think so."

Letting out a long breath, he nodded. "Okay, so what do we do?"

"We help," she replied firmly. "We'll make sure Felix has everything he needs to survive here alone for a few days, and then we head over to New York."

Bucky nodded, pursing his lips. "I'll go pack up the ca-"

"No, we don't have time for that," Daphne mumbled, grabbing the automatic food dispenser for Felix from a cupboard in the kitchen. She then filled it to the brim with dry dog food. Felix wasn't fond of the stuff, but it was what he would have to deal with while everything was... Well, going to hell.

Bucky readjusted his hold on Vera, who was watching her mother closely and appearing to be both confused and worried by what she saw. "Then what do we do?"

"We use the Bifrost," Daphne answered determinedly. All Bucky could do was nod.


	17. 17 - Unsuccessful Meetings

**A/N: I am just going to warn you now, due to popular opinion, this is only going to follow the story of Civil War fairly loosely. Daphne's (and Kaia's, a little) presence in this universe is going to be changing things somewhat more noticeably from here on out. Also, her reaction to Ross is very much in parallel with my own opinion of him, so sorry in advance if people think it's a little extreme. Bear in mind though that she is also pregnant, so her emotional responses to think are gonna be dialled up to eleven.**

 **Big thanks to elaine1606 and silly60 for favouriting/following. :)))**

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* * *

 **17 - Unsuccessful Meetings**

Despite the fact the people at the Avengers facility knew precisely who lived there, they were still startled when the Bifrost appeared in the air and deposited Bucky and I firmly on the grass outside the building. Bucky held our short-trips bag in his metal hand, and I was holding onto Vera. She was a little disorientated by the peculiar form of travel, but seemed nonetheless no worse for wear.

The two of us immediately walked inside the facility, heading for the room that Tony had said was ours (though we'd never had to use it before now) and dumping our things there. While I was stuffing our spare clothes into the already surprisingly full chest of drawers in the room, Bucky switched on the TV to the news channel.

" _Eleven Wakandans are among those killed during a confrontation between the Avengers and a group of mercenaries in Lagos, Nigeria, last week. The traditionally reclusive Wakandans were on an outreach mission in Lagos when the attack occurred._ "

He changed the channel.

" _People can appreciate all that the Avengers have done for us in the past,_ " a man was saying in an interview, " _but they're ignoring the laws of the various countries they visit to do their work, often causing more harm than good, as with the incident in Nigeria. What legal authority do people like Wanda Maximoff-_ " The moment that name was spoken I turned off the TV and swept out of the room, heading straight down the hall. Bucky sighed, picked up Vera, and followed.

Despite only being here once or twice, I knew my way around this place fairly well, and I knew where each of the Avengers had been assigned. It took only a few seconds to reach Wanda's room, where I found Steve already there with her.

"It's on me," Wanda said glumly.

"It's on both of us," Steve corrected, while I leaned on the door with a disapproving frown on my face. "This job... We try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everybody. But, if we can't find a way to live with that... Next time, maybe nobody gets saved."

"Start talking like that, Rogers," I said, and both of them whirled to face me with shocked expressions, "and you'll start to believe it."

"Daphne, what are you doing here?" Steve asked, even as Wanda scrambled to her feet and pulled me into a hug that I wholeheartedly returned.

I stroked her hair and whispered, "You did what you could, sweetie. But what you're forgetting - and what they're forgetting - is that no one could have helped any more than you did. Without you, so many more people would have died. People in that building, people in the streets... You saved more lives than anyone will ever give you credit for, but you cannot forget that." I pulled back and held her face in my hands, urging, "Don't forget the good you do. You won't ever get told about the good in the news - they don't care about it in the same way. But you _must_ , Wanda. Focus on the lives you saved, not the lives lost. It's a high price to pay, doing what we do, but we do it because no one else could do it better, okay?"

She sniffled slightly, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, but she nodded. "Okay," she whispered.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead and then let her go, smiling sadly as she moved to greet Bucky and Vera. I turned to Steve. "It's starting," I told him solemnly, and he nodded.

"I figured," he said with a sigh. "And you're sure you can't tell us anything?"

I shook my head, though part of me was violently protesting the action. "I'm afraid that doing so will just make things happen more quickly. I can't afford to let that happen. I'll help where I can, change what I can, but... Since I don't know for sure how this is gonna go..."

Steve nodded again, offering a small smile of comfort. "We trust you to do what has to be done. We may not like it, but you've been thinking about this for a long time. If anyone can get it right, it's you."

I snorted. "No pressure then."

I jumped when Vision suddenly phased through the wall beside me, placing a hand on my heart as I tried to calm myself. Down below, junior wriggled upon noticing my shock. I rubbed my belly to try to soothe him.

"You really shouldn't just walk through walls like that, Vis," I grumbled.

He blinked. "But the door was open, so I assumed..." Upon catching my stony look, he cleared his throat and turned to Steve, wisely choosing to change the topic. "You wished to know when Mr Stark was arriving."

Steve inclined his head. "Thank you. I'll be right down."

Vision gestured awkwardly to the door, through which I could see Bucky talking to Wanda in low tones, a deep frown on his face, his eyes shining with concern. I smiled slightly at the sight. Wanda was, in both our eyes, just as much our daughter as Vera was. "I'll... use the door..." Vision moved to leave, before pausing and turning back. "Oh, and apparently he's brought a guest."

Steve and I frowned in unison. "You know who it is?" Steve asked.

"The Secretary of State."

I cursed loudly in all my eight languages, causing Bucky - who could understand quite a few - to chuckle. It seemed he had finished talking to Wanda, who had taken hold of Vera and was gently cooing to her. Vera appeared delighted to be in the arms of her almost-sister.

"Everything alright, Daphne?" Steve asked in a teasing voice, grinning when I glared at him.

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Let's just say I am not that man's biggest fan."

"Never would have got that impression. You seemed rather eager to meet him a moment ago."

Rolling my eyes, I let out a sigh. "Come on, let's go and see what the old man wants. And if I start running my mouth at him... Please, _please_ don't stop me. God knows I've got enough pent up emotion to last any sane person a lifetime."

"Don't worry," Bucky said, popping up beside me and pecking me lightly on the head, "when it happens, everyone will be far too amused to stop you."

Steve sighed. "We best not keep him waiting."

* * *

Despite the large table in the middle of the room, I stood by the far window, staring out at the green fields all around us while listening to Secretary Ross drone on about some heart attack he'd had five years ago. I couldn't help but recall something I'd seen in some animated movie when I was a teenager - he was monologuing, which was the greatest weakness for anyone. As a former army member, he should have been taught that.

"The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt," he continued, _finally_ getting to the point. "You've fought for us. Protected us. Risked your lives. And while a great many people see you as heroes, some prefer the word 'vigilantes'."

"And what word would you use, Mr Secretary?" Natasha asked with a tone of forced sweetness. Anyone with eyes or ears could tell she didn't like where this was going.

"How about 'dangerous'?" he asked.

"Isn't everybody?" I couldn't help but ask, finally turning my eyes away from the window. "Everybody has the potential to be dangerous. A woman in a library could set fire to all the books in the building. A little girl with the right training could stab a skilled soldier in the chest - which, by the way, _has_ actually happened before. An old war vet could get so consumed by his narrow-sighted goal that he ends up creating a monster whilst trying to take down a man who had absolutely no desire to hurt anybody, _ever_."

"What happened with Dr Banner is unique," Ross said, his eyes narrowed.

"Is it?" I challenged. "Loki opens up a portal over New York, S.H.I.E.L.D. sends in the Avengers to end the threat as cleanly as possible, while the assholes in the World Security Council think the only way to solve the problem is to fire a nuclear weapon at the most heavily populated city in America. But does anyone ever remember that? No, of course they don't. Three helicarriers drop into the Potomac, and yeah, maybe a few people got hurt in the process; but people forget that, in a matter of minutes, _millions_ of people could have been wiped out by them instead, because the same council insisted those ships be put in the air. All of this, of course, despite numerous people advising otherwise. A city is turned into an asteroid, and despite the fact our main priority was getting as many lives away from that place as possible, people blame us for those that did die. Never mind the fact that, had we failed, over half the people on the entire planet could have been killed." I scoffed, turning back to the window and ignoring the various looks I was getting from the others. "Yeah, we're dangerous. We're dangerous because we have to be. Someone who isn't wouldn't be able to put their life on the line again and again in an attempt to save everybody else."

"And for that, your aid is appreciated," Ross said, as if I hadn't spoken. I resisted the urge to turn around and throw a punch straight at the bastard's face. "But for four years now you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But, I think we have a solution." He reached behind him to grab a large book, placing it on the table in front of Wanda. She hesitantly picked it up. "The Sokovia Accords," Ross stated. "Approved by 117 countries. It states that the Avengers will no longer be a private organisation. Instead, you'll operate under the supervision of the United Nations panel, only when, and if, that panel deems it necessary."

"The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place," Steve said, eyeing the Accords with an expression of the utmost distaste. "I feel we've done that."

"Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?"

"Yes," Bucky and I answered in unison, sending each other a smirk when Ross turned to us with a hardened expression.

"Is that so? And where might they be hiding?"

"You think we're going to offer you that information?" Bucky asked, widening his stance. "The two of them went off the grid for a reason - the same reason the Avengers were formed in the first place."

"To protect people?" Ross queried dubiously, seeming to sneer at the very thought.

I rolled my eyes. "Banner felt he was too dangerous to be a permanent member of this team," I told him. "He left so the Hulk wouldn't be forced back into play unless it became the only remaining option. Thor, likewise, has gone to find other ways of protecting the world. Believe it or not, Senator, there are far greater threats out there than those we could possibly create down here. Some of us have been trying to focus on that as well as the things going on on Earth."

"Tell me something," Ross said, stepping forward, "if you knew about these so-called 'greater threats', then why has no one been informed?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're aware of my history, yes?" I asked, and he nodded. "Hydra thought the only way to create peace was through chaos. Informing people that the Earth is likely to be attacked by something of a nature beyond our control would create chaos. Chaos and panic are two things we cannot afford to have on our side when the attack comes."

"If you'd have told us earlier, we could have time to prepare."

"No amount of preparation on our behalf would work against these sorts of creatures," Bucky muttered, shaking his head. "You've seen what Thor can do, what Loki can do. That's two people out of millions. Humans are at the very bottom of the chain. Or at least we were, until we showed up on the radar of the other realms when we defeated the Chitauri. Now, we're a threat. A target. Our enemies out there are watching us very closely, learning us, waiting for the right time to strike."

Ross looked between the two of us, seemingly forgetting the rest of the people in the room. The Avengers, too, were eyeing us closely. They knew small details about this, of course, but the way we were talking about it - as if it were happening as we spoke - was new to them too. "And if preparation will yield nothing, why focus so much on it?"

"I've lived a long time, Ross," I told him with a sigh, truly feeling the weight of my 156 years of life. "I spent six decades living on Asgard with the likes of Loki and Thor. In the last few years, Asgard has been recreating and solidifying its allegiances with the other realms. I went up to Asgard a year ago to request that Odin - the Allfather - use these allegiances and his rule over Yggdrasil to warn people of what's coming. There are armies training all across the universe in preparation for this attack, so that when the time comes, the armies of all the realms can act as one body to fight against our enemies." I sneered at him. "All this effort, all this work trying to keep not just our world safe, but the other worlds in the universe too, and you dare to come to us saying we're going to be stopped?" I pointed at the book now lying in the middle of the table. "I don't care how many countries signed that thing, I don't care how many people claim that we inflict more damage on this planet than we prevent, we were given a job, and that's what we're here to do. We don't have _time_ for something like this." And with one final shake of my head, I pushed past the secretary and left the room, knowing that I'd soon be breaking windows if I had to listen to another word from that man.


	18. 18 - Repair Work

**A/N: So this is the point where the plotline of this fic diverts from that of Civil War, though I will say that a lot of the fundamental bits of CW will still happen here, though through different means. Hopefully I'll do it justice.**

 **Big thanks to Jessica959 for following.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Jessica959: Yeah, I really hate him, and I think a lot of others do too. It bugs me that he's able to get away with so much.**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Glad to hear it, though I'm not sure you'd like it so much if she were real and she were pissed off at _you_ ;)**

* * *

 **18 - Repair Work**

Barely five minutes later, the rest of the Avengers - sans Pietro, who was out on a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission once again (apparently they really liked him) - filed into the communal area of the Avengers facility. Bucky immediately moved towards me, wrapping his arms around my stomach from behind and letting out an aggravated sigh through his nose. I patted his hands in what I hoped to be reassurance, but I had a feeling it failed. We were both antsy about this whole thing.

"You guys know where Thor and Banner are?" Tony asked the moment everyone was settled.

I glanced back at him, noting that, once more, everyone was facing us with curious expressions. I nodded. "Kaia ran into them when she went on her extended holiday to Australia," I explained. "They're okay - they're together for now. Keeping an eye on things over here, from what I heard."

"How come we weren't told this?"

I shrugged. "Thor asked her to keep it to a minimum. Since Thor and I are both trying to tackle the extraterrestrial problem, the two of them agreed that I could be told. That I _should_ be told."

"And Bucky?"

He smirked slightly. "I walked in halfway through the conversation," he answered. "They can't undo what I heard, so they just made me swear to secrecy."

Steve was frowning deeper than the others. "So why tell us now?"

"Because you discovered that we know where they are," I supplied simply. "I wasn't about to let Ross dehumanise them by comparing them to a WMD or something. We might be dangerous but we're still people, and they're our friends. I wasn't about to let him say something like that."

"I guess your decision about the Accords is pretty final, then," Sam noted, smiling when Bucky and I scoffed at the same time, wearing almost identical crooked grins. He shook his head, before asking, "So what brought you guys here? You've always been pretty determined to keep away from this life is you can avoid it. Especially now you guys have another baby in the equation."

"It's April," Natasha said, as if that explained everything. To the people who knew what she was talking about, it did. "From what I can gather from various conversations over the last few months, we are now entering the next stage in Daphne's story world. Which means what happens next is big, and important."

"I'm sorry, what?" Rhodes asked, frowning. "Her story world?"

I shook my head. "It's a long story - I'll explain at a better time," I told him with a dismissive wave of my hand. "What did Ross say after I left?"

"There's a UN meeting in three days to officially approve the Accords," Natasha stated calmly. As usual, her opinion on things was impossible to garner just from her expression, though I had a feeling I knew what it would be.

"Where?" I asked, feeling myself tense up as a flash of an explosion popped up behind my eyes.

"Vienna."

"No, I mean... Where in Vienna? What building?"

Everyone was suddenly far more on edge. "Daphne," Steve said slowly, "what's wrong?"

I ignored him, turning on the TV. I eyed the screen, listening through suddenly ringing ears to the announcer on the news talking about the upcoming meeting. I paused the screen when an image of a glass-fronted building showed. "A hundred bucks says it's there," I muttered, feeling my stomach drop. I knew that this was one of those important decisions I had to make. If what I remembered about this movie was true, someone would try to blow up that building. But I didn't know why, I didn't know what repercussions it would have for everything else.

It wasn't as daunting as it should have been, because I suddenly remembered the people sitting behind me. They were relying on me to do what was right. I was in the same boat as them now - I had no idea what could change based on my decisions, but I was driven by the need to save as many lives as I could. To stop as many bad things from happening as I could. And, it seemed, this would be where I started.

"What's going to happen there?" Steve asked, a more noticeable tone of urgency in his voice. He was practically begging me to tell him what I thought I knew. Any information would help them. I had to stop being afraid of the consequences. I had the power to change things, and while before I'd been shying away from that responsibility under the guise I was trying to stop things from getting even worse, through my inaction, I hadn't made things better either.

But then I remembered everything I'd told Ross. I'd gone to Asgard and asked Loki to help. While he hadn't told me whether he'd agree to my plan, I had been and still was confident he would have seen the logic and done so. He knew better than most the power that Thanos held, the power he couldn't be allowed to unleash on the Nine Realms. Hell, though he wasn't here to remind me of the fact, I'd saved Pietro's life. He could change so many things without my knowledge. He was already out there, with S.H.I.E.L.D., changing things. Hopefully for the better. And Bucky... Bucky was free from fear. Free to fight for what he wanted. Because of me. My mere presence allowed that change.

It was time I stopped being afraid. It was time I stopped cowering in the shadows, and stepped up to do what I had to, what was right. I'd made the mistake of letting my fear take over before - God only knows what Agatha would say to me if she knew I'd been doing the same thing this whole time.

"Daphne?" Bucky asked quietly, rubbing his hand on my arm. "What is it, sweetheart?"

I grit my teeth. "The UN building is going to get bombed," I said, and in the silence that followed you could have heard a pin drop.

"What did you say?" Rhodes questioned, leaning forward with a deep-set frown on his face.

Shaking my head, I glanced at Bucky, who was tight-lipped and solemn. His eyes showed his sorrow, but also his determination. "At the meeting in three days, there's going to be an explosion. I don't know who will set it off, I don't know how many will die, but I'm sure it's going to happen."

"Then we have to get the meeting moved-"

"No," I cut Steve off sharply, and everyone's heads whipped around to face me so fast I could have sworn they'd all given themselves whiplash. I squared my shoulders and firmly repeated, "No. We can't do that. This whole event is on every news channel in most of the world. We change the location of the meeting and the whole world will know about it. Including the bomber. Their plans could change at the same time. No, we have to continue as normal, have an evacuation plan ready in time for the meeting, and then when everyone's gathered, we get them out. No lives have to be lost."

"That could put the whole Accords in jeopardy," Rhodes pointed out, shaking his head. "Besides, how do you know this anyway? You see a building on the TV and suddenly you know it's gonna be bombed?"

"I told you, it's a long story. The moment I can, I'll tell you the whole thing, but for now, let's just say I have a very weird version of precognition."

"What happened to letting what must happen just... happen?" Stark asked, a note of bitterness in his voice.

Sighing, I perched myself on the edge of the chair by Steve, placing my hands in my lap and taking a deep breath. "I don't know what's going to happen anymore, Tony. Not in depth, not in detail. I have to make my own choices from here, and you're right - all of you are right, and you have been all along. Maybe these things can't be stopped, but we can still save people. That's what the Avengers are here to do, isn't it?" I sighed. "I was afraid that, by changing things, I'd make things worse, that I'd... disrupt the balance of things somehow."

"But you've already done that," Wanda pointed out gently. "Just by being here. You said so yourself. Bucky... Pietro..."

I nodded. "I know. I guess, in the end, I was just afraid of having all that responsibility."

"You don't have to carry that weight alone, you know," Steve pointed out with a soft, fond smile. I returned it and placed my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. "I think I speak for everyone when I say I'd happily help you carry that burden, if only you'd _let us_ , Daph."

I nodded, offering him a silent thanks that he seemed to accept with another of those small smiles of his.

"So," Natasha said, leaning back in the chair, "we've got an almost guaranteed bombing going to happen in the middle of Vienna in three days, and we have to try to evacuate the building as safely as possible. What's our plan?"

"Oh," I said with a grin, "I already have a plan." They all looked at me in surprise, and I scoffed lightly. "I think you guys are forgetting I was in the army once. A lot of my job involved coming up with things like this."

"So what's it to be, boss?" Steve questioned, flashing me a grin when I rolled my eyes at him.

I stood up again, moving back towards the TV where I stared at the image still frozen on the screen, biting my lip. "We go in," I answered firmly. "All of us - even those with no intention of signing this thing. We go in together and prove to them that their safety is our number one priority." I turned to my surrogate daughter. "Wanda, I want you to contact Pietro. We'll need him and a specialist S.H.I.E.L.D. team to work on the floor. Even if they can't disable the bomb, if we can find it we might be able to find a source for it. That'll narrow down our options for who the bomber is."

"So that's it?" Rhodes questioned, looking doubtful. "We just go in, warn people of a threat and then politely ask them all to leave? How many people do you think are gonna follow an order like that? They'll think it's a hoax - or worse, they'll think we planted the bomb, only to then act as heroes by dropping in and saving everyone."

I blinked, my mind whirling with this new idea. "Oh my God," I breathed. "Oh!" I let out a laugh. "James Rhodes you are _brilliant!_ "

He blinked, looking around. "Does someone want to fill in the blanks here, because I'm lost."

"I don't think anyone else has any idea," Bucky mumbled in response, and while he looked as confused as everyone else, he was still watching me with an open expression. Looking around, I saw the rest were wearing the same faces. They were prepared to hear my theory, and act accordingly. That made me smile. Just a little.

"Think about it," I urged, trying to fight back the grin that was fighting its way past my defences, "with society's faith in us so shaken, there are those out there who would believe what Rhodes just suggested - that we'd deliberately cause mayhem to give us the chance to swoop in and appear as the stars of the show. What if that's the thread the bomber wants to pull?"

"You mean... Make it look like its our fault?" Sam asked, shaking his head. "That's messed up."

"But plausible," Vision muttered contemplatively. "In today's era of technology, it is far within the realm of possibility that someone would be capable of finding a way to make people believe they are one of us. Disguises are growing ever more advanced as time progresses."

"But why?" Natasha asked, shaking her head. "What's the point?"

Bucky suddenly straightened, realisation filling his eyes. "To shake the public's confidence in us," he replied. "Hell, to shake our confidence in each other. These Accords are already dividing us, based on what we think the best pathway is. Maybe this is meant to split us even more, make one half of us believe the other is trying to force the hand of the government."

"United we stand, divided we fall," I found myself murmuring. "I'm not sure where I remember hearing that, but I know it's relevant now."

Rhodes still looked like he wasn't sure whether to believe us. "So... You think this bomber is trying to divide us? Why?"

"Revenge?" Tony offered. "A lot of people died in all the attacks we became a part of. Maybe they blame the deaths of their loved ones on us, and are doing this as a way to make us pay for our mistakes."

"Maybe," Natasha agreed with a sigh. "But that still doesn't sort out the issue of the Accords."

Bucky shook his head, muttering under his breath in a low enough tone that no one could hear him. "Right now," he said at length, "I think that's something that should be put on the back burner. We obviously all need to think _very_ carefully about what we want to decide, and equally I think we need to respect the choices of our team mates. Ross said we would retire if we didn't sign the Accords - personally, I'm okay with that. We all need to make our decisions on that front, but I think it should only be done once things are a little calmer and a little safer. Daphne's right - regardless of what anybody else says, our job is to protect people. And until those documents get signed, we have a duty to respond to the threats we detect. Including this one. Once we've gotten this out of the way, _then_ we can properly discuss the Accords."

Everyone was quiet for a moment, mulling everything over in their heads, and then Steve's phone went off. With a face pinched with confusion, he picked up his phone. In an instant his entire demeanour changed, and his face dropped. He cleared his throat. "I have to go." And with no more said he left the room. Everyone exchanged glances before, barely five seconds later, my phone went off as well. Feeling everyone's eyes on me, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and let my eyes fall on the message.

 _Peggy's passed away. It was peaceful - she went in her sleep._

I stared at the message for a moment, barely comprehending what I was reading, before I looked up and caught Bucky's gaze. He swam in my vision, and I felt the familiar heated prickle of tears in my eyes. I threw my phone to him before heading out after Steve.

I found him in the stairwell, leaning against the railing with his face in his hand. Without a word I pulled him into a standing position and drew him into my arms, letting my tears slip silently out of my eyes as Steve's body shuddered, and he clung to me almost uncomfortably tightly. I just held him, trying to provide him with what little strength I had left to offer.


	19. 19 - Savoured Memories

**A/N: Well, I know it's after 10pm (where I am anyway) so this is a late update for me. Still, I managed to post on the right day, so I'm gonna take that. Enjoy!**

 **Big thanks to AquaJGirl for favouriting. :)**

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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Well, I guess you'll have to wait and find out ;)**

* * *

 **19 - Savoured Memories**

Bucky pulled at his suit as he and Steve stood with four other men in a small room. Steve had barely spoken a word for three days. Bucky thought it was cruel, that Fate decided to have the day of the Accords discussion (and the expected bombing) on the same day that Margaret Sousa, nee Carter, was to have her funeral.

"You okay, pal?" He didn't want to break the silence that had washed over them, but Steve had bottled everything up, as usual, and he felt the need to remind the stubborn blonde that he wasn't alone.

Steve glanced at Bucky, whose hair was carefully swept back, and he was reminded of the day his mother was buried. Bucky had been there with him the whole time, offering his support. Steve smiled slightly, glad to know he still had his best friend to help him through this. "I will be," he responded, and Bucky placed a firm hand on his shoulder before the group of six were directed into the next room.

Peggy's coffin, covered in the Union Flag, lay before them. With no communication necessary, Bucky and Steve stood beside each other at the foot of the coffin, while the other four men filled up the space behind them.

The funeral room had been stolen over by an utter stillness that was commonplace at funerals, but somehow felt stifling here. Many people attended to pay their respects to Peggy, who had thankfully lived a long life. Bucky hadn't known Peggy very well until Daphne was reintroduced to him after her 77 years away. Every month or two, he and Daphne would fly to Washington to visit the woman in her home, and in that time he truly began to learn about the woman Steve had been so fond of. He'd liked her too, back in the day, but he didn't know her in quite the same way that he did now. Peggy's death was a heavy blow, one that he bore with as much strength as he could. Steve and Daphne were both shaken right to the core over this, and while each tried to be strong for the other, they equally both failed. Bucky took it upon himself to be their rock whenever they needed him.

Bucky and Steve took their seats amongst the front-most rows, where Sam was already sat. He hadn't known Peggy that well either, but he'd met her and liked her, so had come along to the funeral as well. Oddly, Bucky was unable to see Daphne anywhere.

The minister stepped up, speaking in low tones words of comfort from the Bible, though speaking very little of Peggy herself. The reason for this became clearer when he said, "And now I would like to invite Sharon Carter to come up and say a few words."

A blonde woman - the identity of whom seemed to spark some interest for Sam and Steve, but not for Bucky - stepped up and cleared her throat quietly, before looking up and meeting the eyes of the crowd. "Margaret Carter was known to most as a founder of S.H.I.E.L.D., but I just knew her as Aunt Peggy. She had a photograph in her office; Aunt Peggy standing next to JFK. As a kid, that was pretty cool. But it was a lot to live up to - which is why I never told anyone we were related. I asked her once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage at a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either. And she said, 'Compromise when you can. Where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right; even if the whole world is telling you to move... it is your duty, to plant yourself like a tree, look them in they eye and say, 'No, you move'.'" She cleared her throat once more, glancing down at the front row on the other side of the aisle, then said, "There aren't many here who can say they knew my aunt in her prime. But in her last will and testament, Peggy requested that an old friend of hers speak at her funeral, even if only to ensure that their shared memories wouldn't ever be lost."

Then she stepped back, and someone from the other side stood up. Bucky had to catch himself just before his mouth fell open, and he felt Steve stir in surprise as well. The familiar figure, wearing her old war uniform (unbuttoned), patches and medals, took Sharon's place at the head of the church, squeezing the younger woman's arm as she did so.

Now it made sense. Bucky hadn't seen Daphne because he'd been looking for her - the blonde woman he'd made his wife - and not the brown haired soldier he knew in the war. It was strange, seeing her again, knowing that Evelyn and Daphne were the same person underneath. Yet at the same time, it made him happy to know that, no matter which version of him you spoke of, or which version of her, somehow they always ended up together.

Daphne took a deep breath, before speaking. "Peggy and I were two women who were part of a life that, at the time, was thought to be suitable only for men. We had to fight twice as hard, and for twice as long, to earn the same respect as the men around us. During the war that wasn't so hard, but afterwards, society expected us to step back and let the men take over. I had secured my place in the army by then, so I was affected little by this, but Peggy received the worst of it. Now, anyone who has talked to Peggy for more than a minute would tell you that she wouldn't ever let something like expectation hold her back. And she didn't. Peggy's devotion to doing what she felt was right put both of us in some pretty dangerous situations - the first one that comes to mind was when we tried to clear the name of a dear friend of ours, and in doing so some might argue we were committing treason. But we did it - we cleared his name, proved his innocence, and in that time Peggy finally started earning the respect she always deserved." Daphne let out a sigh. "Peggy and I went through so much together, and I couldn't possibly recount it all now. She asked me to talk today so that our memories would never be forgotten; but I could never forget her, nor the impact she had on my life. Peggy was there for me when I lost the man I loved, and equally I was there when the same happened to her. There are no words to express how much she meant to me, nor how much I will miss her now she's gone. But I will say this: Peggy helped to make this world a brighter, better, _safer_ place to live. We all owe her more than any of us could possibly imagine."

* * *

Bucky joined Daphne after the ceremony, watching Steve and Sam move to talk to that blonde woman, Sharon. He placed a hand on her lower back and murmured into her ear, "Are you alright?"

She inhaled heavily, her face solemn, but she nonetheless nodded. "Everything about this just seems so brutal. Peggy's funeral is now, but in just a few hours we have to be over at the UN meeting. How can we possibly be expected to have our heads in the right place after an event like this? We might be enhanced, but we're still human."

"No one knew Peggy was gonna die, Daph. Remember that."

Daphne sighed. "Yeah, I know. Honestly, I'm just not sure I'm mentally ready for all this." She placed a hand over her belly, her army uniform not really suiting the pregnant look, though he was hardly complaining.

Bucky felt himself smiling as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "How is he today?" he asked.

"Unusually still," she answered immediately, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I suppose my mood - and the mood of those around me - is affecting him, too."

Bucky's hand drifted over her belly, and, as always, he smiled at the flood of warmth that steeled over him when he felt their little boy move underneath his hand. Daphne wasn't lying though - usually the little tyke would wriggle up a storm when he felt his father's hand, but after that initial shift he was completely still. "Or," Bucky suggested, stroking her bump with his thumb, "maybe he's sleeping."

Scoffing, Daphne muttered, "Well that would be a first."

Bucky smiled softly, carefully spinning her to face him. He pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, "You love it really."

She rolled her eyes, clearly trying to hold herself back, but after a few seconds a soft smile flickered over her face. "I do," she agreed. "It makes me realise that he's healthy, and nothing in the world can compare to that after all the fear I went through last time."

Bucky gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, though it felt strange to do so to hair that was too short and too dark. "I told you everything would be fine, didn't I?" he asked, a teasing note to his voice. Daphne rolled her eyes, saying nothing. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Come on, we ought to go and get on the plane. Otherwise, we might not make it to Vienna in time."

"Oh, before we go, just thought I'd actually warn you this time that I'm changing again."

Bucky chuckled. "Let me guess..."

Daphne nodded. "If T'Chaka is gonna be there, I want to greet him as an old friend, not as a stranger. And who knows? Maybe it'll help us persuade him of the threat to his life. If he even remembers me, anyway."

"No one could forget you," Bucky murmured quickly, taking her hand as they began walking towards the airport, where Stark had provided them with a private jet to ensure they'd make it to Austria in time for the meeting.

Chuckling, Daphne added, "For better or worse, I suppose." Bucky had to agree to that. While most people loved her, Daphne certainly had a way to get on people's bad sides too. Whatever the case, she never failed to leave a lasting impression.

* * *

We had all been surprised when Natasha showed up at the end of Peggy's funeral to offer her support, but we were nonetheless grateful for it. Steve especially. He and Natasha had a bond that I couldn't really put into words, but it was obvious they truly cared about each other, in one form or another.

Upon arriving at Vienna I got a call from Pietro, who told us that he and Coulson's specialist team were already searching the area for the suspected bomb. Now all we had to do was evacuate the building and the surrounding area, and go from there. Our theory about someone using this as an opportunity to blame us terrified me, because Bucky and I were the two most likely to be framed. With what happened at the care home in Vancouver - regardless of the fact our names were completely cleared - we would be the easiest to incriminate.

I had changed out of my army uniform on the journey over, and had replaced my brown wig with a red one - the one I'd used when I first went on the run. It felt a little strange to be wearing it again, especially considering the events that made hiding my identity necessary last time.

Bucky, Steve, Natasha and I entered the UN meeting building side-by-side, all of us ignoring the attention we were getting from the media all around us. It seemed S.H.I.E.L.D. had done their job well so far - the street was almost completely barren. A few vehicles lingered here and there, but the only people around were those heading for the meeting, those trying to get a decent photo of us, and the Agents who were searching for the bomb.

The UN meeting room was bustling with people when we entered, and we saw the rest of the Avengers lingering to the side. They seemed to sag in relief when they saw us, and they immediately set to work, filtering themselves into the crowds and quietly informing the people of the threat. Steve and Bucky separated to do the same, while Natasha and I headed towards the window.

The tall, dark skinned man who was stood there turned to us with a polite smile on his face. I felt a pang of surprise when I saw the resemblance between him and T'Chaka, and immediately worked out the identity of the man - his son, T'Challa. Natasha glanced around her nervously, both of us painfully aware of the fact people seemed rather hesitant to leave. "It seems none of use are used to the spot light," T'Challa mused.

Natasha glanced at him and gave a tense smile. "Well, it's not always so flattering." She turned to me. "Why is no one moving?"

"As soon as one person gets up, the rest will follow," I replied with my highly practiced French accent, eyes scanning the room. "You will often find that everyone is unwilling to become that first man."

"Is there a problem?" T'Challa asked, a crease forming in between his brows.

I glanced back at him. "We have reason to believe someone may try to interrupt this meeting with... Well..."

"An explosion, from what I hear," a new voice said. Natasha turned to face the new arrival, while I kept my back to him for a moment, smiling at the maturity in his voice. Yet he still sounded the same in a way, like the little nine year old boy I once knew.

Natasha sighed. "And yet, it seems, people are determined to stay."

I finally turned to face my old friend, smiling softly at him when he moved his eyes to me. I couldn't help but revel in the pure shock that crossed his face. " _Utitshala?_ " he asked quietly.

" _Molo, T'Chaka. Unjani?_ "

" _Ndiyaphila, enkosi_." He smiled. "The years have been far kinder to you than I, it seems."

I chuckled. "It is not so much a blessing as you might think, _nesikhova_."

T'Chaka turned to his son. "This is Coralie Bachelot. She and I met when I was just a child."

"A rather voracious child at that," I teased as I shook T'Challa's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," T'Challa said, grinning slightly. "I have heard about you more than once over the years."

Over my shoulder, Natasha cleared her throat quite loudly. I rolled my eyes, but she did have a point. "I think perhaps we ought to catch up later," I mused. "After all, there is a bomb threat nearby."

T'Chaka sighed. "What reason would someone have to bomb such a meeting? A meeting of peace."

Sighing, I said lowly, "Our current theory it is a form of retribution against us - the Avengers, I mean. We are beginning to wonder if perhaps the bomber might even try to impersonate one of us. Though that is, of course, a crude area. It's very difficult to prove otherwise should that be the case." I let out a long breath. "Well, I suppose we'll tackle that problem when we get to it. For now-" I was cut off by the sound of my phone going off. I blinked in confusion, before pulling it out and noticing the caller name. "Excuse me for a moment," I mumbled to my company, before swiftly answering the call. "Pietro, did you find it?"

" _White van on the street opposite,_ " came the immediate response. " _It seems to be on a timer. It's set to go off in about forty seconds._ "

"We'll make sure everyone's clear. Deactivate it if you can, but your priority is getting yourself and everyone else out of there."

" _Got it._ " Then he hung up.

I turned to face the UN members behind me, and the whole room seemed to be watching me. "They've found it - it's gonna blow in about thirty seconds so we really have to move. _Now._ "

Thankfully, people finally began to shuffle towards the back of the room. Natasha and I ushered T'Challa and T'Chaka forward, but with the sheer number of people trying to get out the door at once, our progress was slow. I was almost bouncing on my feet in agitation, sharing anxious looks with my friends. I chose the next moment to warily glance over my shoulder.

Barely a second later, the entire front face of the building exploded in a shower of fire and glass.

* * *

 **I don't usually do these things at the end, but I figured you might want some translations:**

 **Utitshala - teacher**

 **Molo, T'Chaka. Unjani. - Hello, T'Chaka. How are you?**

 **Ndiyaphila, enkosi. - I'm fine, thank you.**

 **Nesikhova - little owl**


	20. 20 - And So It Begins

**A/N: Wow guys, I'm so sorry this is late, I just haven't had the chance to write much (or, consequently, post anything) this week because I had to do two exams yesterday and spent the week preparing. Sorry. Anyway, this is done now, so here it is. Enjoy!**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Hmmm... Nah... ;)**

* * *

 **20 - And So It Begins**

In all my years of life, over all my past experiences, I'd only ever felt this sensation once or twice before. The cold lingering in my body, the heaviness of my eyes, the continuous but barely noticeable tremble in my muscles. Every sound seemed muffled. Sirens, voices, the crackle of fire, the chink of glass... All except the ringing. My ears felt like they were screaming, that ringing was so loud, so dominant. It was wreaking absolute havoc in my mind.

The first thing I had a tangible awareness of was the warmth blanketing my body, the familiar hardness of a strong chest, the comforting contrast between warm skin and cold metal. Bucky. He was holding me. Tightly, actually; almost to the point of pain. There was a tremor in his whole body, travelling from him to me. Something warm dropped onto my cheek. The sensation as it slid along my skin was easy to recognise, yet my sluggish brain couldn't put a name to it.

Next to come back was my sense of smell, and the scent that hit my nose first was a comforting one. Ignoring the acrid stench of smoke, all I could smell was _him._ That intoxicating mix of wood and metal and rain and coffee and just _Bucky_. There was a slight saltiness to the aroma, but I attributed it to the smoke mixing in with the rest.

While that irritating clamour still resonated in my ear, the rest of my hearing became slowly sharper.

"I need as many EMTs on site as possible-"

"The flames are starting to die now-"

"Bucky, you have to let her be seen to."

That last one caught my attention. That was Steve's voice, but tinged with concern and frustration in equal measure. Bucky's arms tightened even more, and a twinge of discomfort shot down my spine. Yet I didn't want him to loosen his hold. I didn't want him to let go. It was reassuring knowing he was there, right next to me.

It shocked me when I heard the desperation and the brokenness in his voice when he responded. "I can't. I can't do that."

"Bucky-"

"Something's wrong, Steve!" Bucky snarled. "Something's wrong, and I'm not leaving her." The next time Bucky spoke, he whispered, and I knew he was looking straight at me. "It's gonna be okay, doll. You're gonna be fine. You're strong like that, and he'll be okay too. I know you'll protect him. That's all this is - your body is keeping him safe, and that's why you haven't woken up yet." I wanted to assure him that I could hear him, that I felt fine (within reason), and I could tell he was trying to do the same for himself, to keep himself calm. After a moment of silence that strength of conviction, little though it was, seemed to fail. I felt Bucky's hair brushing my skin, could sense him lowering his head. His body shuddered, and the softest of sobs left his lips. Another warm thing fell onto my face, and suddenly I knew what it was - a tear. Something in my heart withered at the thought of Bucky crying because of me. "Please, Daphne, wake up," he begged, breath stuttering. "You have to wake up. I need you, sweetheart. We came here to stop people dying, and everyone is alive. You have to be, too. Please, don't give up on me. Don't give up on him; don't give up on little Jace. That was the name you liked, hmm? Jace? Keep yourself alive for him." He sobbed again, the sound catching in his throat. I felt him readjusting his hold on me. I was more comfortable like this because he held me even closer to him. "Don't do this to me, Daphne," he pleaded weakly. "I can't do it, I know I can't. Please, Daphne, wake up. This is killing me, just _please_ , wake up! Give me something - anything - anything I can hold on to. I have to know you're gonna be okay. I'm begging you, just give me something."

Every part of me was screaming to reassure him, to soothe him, but my body seemed to have locked down. I couldn't move my eyes, I couldn't twitch a finger. Nothing happened no matter how hard I tried to move. I wanted to cry too, knowing he was hurting and I was causing it. It felt like my chest was being torn to shreds with every tremble and shudder of his body, every tearful gasp of breath, every whimper. He was bearing his soul to the world, showing weakness, all because of me - the woman who was supposed to make him strong, who was supposed to _be there_ for him and support him, and yet there I was, as useless as a fucking corpse, causing him nothing but pain and anguish.

An uncomfortable heat started building in my eyes. My throat tightened. My heart clenched. And then, in the corner of my eye, I felt a sting, building and growing, until the smallest bead of water slid from my eye.

Above me, Bucky's breath caught. "You're crying," he whispered, sounding both devastated and awed at the same time. "You're crying!" He let out a disbelieving laugh. "You can hear me?" He sounded so uncertain, so afraid of the possibility that it was just a trick, a coincidence. I wanted to shout to the world that yes, of course I could hear him. I'd always hear him. I felt his flesh hand on the side of my face, his skin covered in dirt or grit or dust, giving it a coarseness that felt a little peculiar. "If you can hear me, Daphne... If you can..." He let out a breathless, choked laugh. "God, I don't know what to say." Inhaling sharply, he started again. "If you can hear me, know that it worked. Everyone got out in time; no one else was hurt. Coulson's team got a decent look at the bomb before it blew - Fitz managed to get the whole thing mapped, so he's working on determining its origin. We'll find something." He let out a long breath. "I wish you'd open your eyes," he murmured softly. "Just so I know I'm not talking to myself right now."

"Would that stop you?" another familiar voice asked. T'Challa.

Bucky chuckled, the vibration coursing through me as well. "No, probably not," he admitted.

I heard T'Challa move closer, maybe sitting down. There was a faint jangle of glass. "My father speaks very highly of her," he noted calmly, though there was an undertone of suspicion in his voice. "I was told by both my father ad my grandfather of the mysterious Coralie Bachelot. I heard she disappeared off the face of the earth over sixty years ago."

There was amusement in Bucky's voice now. "That's more or less true, yeah."

"How is it, then, that she is here? A woman you call by a different name, I might add. I trust my father's judgement, and the two seemed familiar with one another; but where he is complacent, I find myself curious. What happened to her?"

Bucky sighed. "It's complicated," he grumbled.

"I find that to be an inadequate excuse," T'Challa stated bluntly.

Bucky huffed. "Frankly, it's about time somebody said that," he muttered. "I'll be as concise as I can, but Daphne's past is... extensive. Unlike Steve and I, she didn't spend most of her life in a glorified freezer - she's lived through most of her years. She's spent her fair share of time in ice, yeah, but that's nothing compared to the time she's spent out of it. She's over 150 years old."

"How?" T'Challa asked in awed shock.

"Like I said, it's complicated," Bucky grumbled, and I envisioned him running his hands over his face, though with him still holding me to him I knew he wasn't really doing that. "I'm also not sure how much is safe to tell you; Daphne's hardly secretive about her past, but there are still bits she prefers to keep quiet. Suffice to say she was in possession of something that froze her body. She didn't age, and she couldn't be killed either. Fatal wounds would be healed in a matter of minutes. Back then, I knew her as Sergeant Major Evelyn Moore, and she trained me when I joined the army. But due to the fact she didn't age, she had to change her identity to stop people getting suspicious. She faked her death and then left America. She ended up in Wakanda as the Frenchwoman Coralie Bachelot."

"But her true name...?"

"Daphne Sparrow," he answered. "Well," he added, and I could hear a smile in his words now, "it used to be. It's Barnes now." Part of me melted at the pride in Bucky's voice as he said that.

For a moment the two were quiet, Bucky's thumb stroking my cheek in an absentminded kind of manner. Despite not putting any effort at all into trying, I knew my body wouldn't move if I wanted it to. It was a little frustrating, but I wasn't going to strain myself just to fail at an attempt to remove that frustration.

"I want to thank you," T'Challa muttered. "For saving everyone. Had you not been there, I fear many people may have been killed. And, given that he was the first set to speak, I think my father would have been one of them. You saved his life."

Bucky sighed. "That's all we've ever wanted to do, really," he responded heavily. "The path getting us where we are now wasn't easy for any of us. We all have our differences, and we're hardly the most coherent group of people but... We do what has to be done when the time comes. That's what we signed up to do. Some of us unofficially, but nonetheless that's our duty."

T'Challa hummed thoughtfully. "I find it difficult to believe that all of you were planning on signing the Accords, yet you all showed up anyway."

"It took all of us to get everyone to safety," Bucky pointed out quietly. "And at times like these, we need to stick together as much as possible."

"Your wife said she thought you were being targeted."

I imagined Bucky nodding his head, sighing again. "Yeah, we're afraid someone with a vendetta against us is planning on using this explosion to frame one of us. We don't know who, if that's the case, but we're all prepared for the worst. Besides, even if we weren't, once Daphne's back on her feet she'll whip us into shape in no time flat."

T'Challa asked with amusement, "Does she really have that much sway over you?"

Bucky snorted, my body jolting slightly at the resulting shift in his body position. "Man, you have no idea. It's impressive on a normal day; when she's pregnant, the effect is twice as hard-hitting. Not to mention she can be truly terrifying if she wants to be."

I felt a little smug at that, and was caught by surprise when I felt my lips twitch just marginally up towards a smirk. The effort it took to get them to move even so little was surprising, but I considered it progress. Whatever had caused my body to shut down was clearly beginning to wear off.

"Bucky." It seemed Steve was back, though I hadn't heard him approaching. Bucky twisted slightly to face his friend, his arm now digging a little less comfortably into my side. "Pietro just called. The S.H.I.E.L.D. team's managed to get their hands on some security footage that's being shared across a bunch of federal organisations - including the CIA."

"And?"

"We were right," Steve said with a sigh.

Bucky suddenly stiffened, enough so that I could barely feel the movement of his chest as he breathed. "Who?" he asked quietly.

Steve hesitated a moment, before admitting sadly, "You. From what we can tell, there are gonna be Agents of many kinds sent out within a few hours."

I could sense Bucky's tension reaching new heights, and finally began willing myself to actively try to wake up properly and move. Still nothing. Dammit! "Why the delay?" Bucky asked, and I wanted to scream at him for seeming to _complain_ about that.

"No one's entirely sure. Coulson seems to believe it's because of who you are and what you're capable of. Assembling a taskforce great enough to incapacitate you will take time."

Bucky huffed. "It's not like I'm gonna run from them - that would only succeed in making me look guilty. Besides, with Daphne still out of it-"

"We can look after her, Buck. You can't afford to stay here and let yourself get taken in. You're innocent in this!"

"I know I am, Steve," Bucky responded calmly, and his composure helped me to relax. I stopped trying to fight the invisible binds on my body. "We all know it. But the last time I ran from a problem like this, I didn't see my wife for months. I'm not going to make that mistake again. You guys can focus on catching this guy, and the sooner you do, the sooner we can all go back to our lives."

Steve was quiet for a long time, and I could easily imagine the uneasy frown on his face. "Are you sure?" he asked at length.

I felt Bucky nodding, though nonetheless tightening his hold on me a little. "I'm positive. Catching this guy is far more important."

Steve let out a long breath. "All that's left is to decide who gets to tell Daphne the bad news."

"Oh, she probably already knows," Bucky muttered, his voice directed towards me again. "I'm convinced she's able to hear us right now."

Steve chuckled. "That wouldn't surprise me at all," he admitted. Then, with concern in his tone, he asked, "What do you think happened?"

"I'm no doctor, so I really don't know," Bucky admitted. "I'm wondering if this is her body's way of protecting the baby from any trauma, making sure it's properly settled before letting her wake up. But honestly, I have no clue. Can a body even do that?"

"You're asking the wrong person, Buck." Once again, they were silent for a moment. "What do we do now?" Steve asked, clearly still hoping Bucky would leave so he wasn't arrested, but I knew that he wouldn't change his mind about that.

Sighing, Bucky murmured, "We get to work," was all he said in reply, before shifting his hold on me and lifting me off the ground. I didn't know where he was taking me, and I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to leave the scene, but Bucky was right. Every moment counted from here on out. The sooner we caught the bastard that framed him the better, and I for one was determined to make sure we did so quickly.

All that I needed to do first was shake off whatever the hell it was that had caused my body to shut down.


	21. 21 - Just Like Before

**A/N: Little shorter than the last few chapters, but bear with me. We're still only in the opening stages of the movie. Hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think! :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Aww, thanks. Yeah, it wasn't easy, but also wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be. After a while I just got used to it, you know?**

* * *

 **21 - Just Like Before**

While the rest of the Avengers were busy outside, making sure everyone was okay and explaining what they knew to the FBI and CIA Agents that had made themselves known on the scene, I was placed inside Coulson's quinjet, from what I could tell. Bucky and Steve were currently busy talking with Pietro about the footage the team had found, though they were all still waiting for Fitz's examination of the bomb.

I let out a slight groan of relief when the coldness that had swamped me after the explosion _finally_ faded away, and my body slowly became mobile. Even so, it still took alarming effort to open my eyes, but I did it. For a few seconds, everything was blurred and the light coming in from the open bay of the jet was painful, but my eyes quickly adjusted.

After a moment letting my body recuperate, I slowly began to sit up, wincing when my head throbbed uncomfortably. Following the sound of voices, I saw Bucky, Steve and Pietro at the other end of the jet, examining some sort of reading off the computer screen.

I took my time standing up, though it was only precautionary - my body felt absolutely fine, and even my head was already beginning to clear.

"Whatever they used to get a facial prosthesis, it must be from a pretty high-up place," Pietro was saying. "Finding something as accurate that isn't easy unless you've got connections."

"What type of connections?" Steve asked.

"Military," I answered, causing everyone to whip around and face me, faces stunned. "Government. Any of these secret organisations. You'd need a place where technology like that is regularly used. The FBI, the CIA, something like that."

Bucky moved to stand in front to me, quickly scanning me with his eyes before giving a meagre smile. "You okay?"

I nodded. "I should be the one asking you that," I muttered. "After all, you're the one they're about to arrest for this."

Something akin to a smirk crossed his lips. "So you _could_ hear me."

"Every word," I informed him calmly, placing my hand against his chest, where his heart was beating strongly and steadily. He captured my hand with his own, but he didn't move it. He simply held it there, an unrecognisable expression on his face. "Including what you said about not fighting back."

"Daphne-"

"I'm not going to argue with your decision," I cut in, knowing where his mind had gone. "But I want you to know that you'll always be my priority. If I hear that you're being mistreated in any way, or neglected or... whatever... I'm dropping everything and coming for you."

"Even if you get locked up for it too?" he asked quietly, frowning at the thought. "Sweetheart, I can't ask you to do that."

I shrugged. "So don't," I replied simply. "Nothing you say will get me to change my mind. And anyway, I'd rather we were both in there together than for only one of us to be."

"Uh, guys!" Pietro's frantic voice had us turning to face him, and I instantly tensed when I noticed his face had paled significantly. "A friend of ours just got in contact - apparently the order to take in Bucky's been changed."

My whole body turned cold. "You mean it's now a kill order."

He pursed his lips, but nodded. "They'll be on their way here within ten minutes. You've got an hour, tops."

I turned to Bucky, who was staring solemnly at the floor. "You have to run, Bucky," I murmured, cradling his face in my hands and directing his eyes back to mine. "You can't let them kill you."

He bit his bottom lip, and I could sense his hesitance. "I just..." He sighed. "I don't want a repeat of last time."

"We'll get your name cleared, I promise," I stated, and while I was outwardly calm, on the inside my stomach was rolling enough to make me feel sick. Even the baby was clearly feeling some form of alarm, as he'd begun wriggling like a madman. "Just stay safe, stay hidden, and for God's sake, _don't_ get killed. We need you back here with us."

Bucky let out a long breath through his nose, before placing both hands on the side of my face and smashing his lips against mine. I wrapped my hands around his wrists, arching into him as much as I could, even with my protruding stomach. There was a sense of sorrow and desperation about the action; the way he held me, the way he stood. Neither of us wanted him to leave, but we also had enough sense to know that he had no choice if he wanted to stay alive. With S.H.I.E.L.D. helping us, we should be able to clear his name quickly, but in the time between then and now he had to get far away from here.

Bucky pulled away slowly, resting his forehead against mine. A pained expression flashed across his face. "I love you, Daph," he murmured, pecking my lips again. "I'll see you soon."

I nodded. "Yeah. 'Course you will."

Another sad smile was directed at me, before he pulled back, grabbing a bag containing various things he'd need to survive. He sent Steve and Pietro a look I couldn't see, then faced me again. His face was calm, if not still slightly tense. "Don't you dare have that baby without me," he said sternly, before leaning forward, kissing me one last time, then shouldering the bag and striding out of the jet.

Barely two seconds passed before I couldn't watch any longer, and I turned around with a pleading expression on my face. "Steve-"

"Already on it," he said with a grin. "You didn't really think I'd let my best friend run off on his own, did you? I'll keep an eye on him."

I nodded gratefully. "Thank you, and I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "It's not your fault," he stated. "We always knew there was a chance something like this would happen. It's not ideal, but we'll get through it." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me from the side. "Stay here, and make sure no one does anything stupid," he commanded lightly, and I felt a chuckle bubbling up my throat before I could stop it.

"Likewise, Captain," I replied, nudging him in the stomach. He grinned crookedly, saluted, then jogged out of the plane after Bucky.

I heard the slight creak of the chair as Pietro stood up, smiling slightly when he wordlessly came to a stop beside me, grasping my hand in his. "You gonna be okay?" he asked me.

For a moment, I had to seriously consider that. Of course I wasn't okay - I was watching my husband and pseudo-brother walk away from me because a whole lot of well-trained federal agents had been ordered to take Bucky out. But at the same time I knew it was for the best, as much as I hated it. So in the end, I simply replied with, "Eventually."

* * *

Steve and Bucky got off their plane about three hours after leaving Vienna, trying but ultimately failing to blend in with the other people crowding off the aircraft. Two tall, heavily built men were always bound to draw eyes, but luckily no one seemed to recognise them.

Once Steve had caught up with Bucky - and spent at least five minutes convincing him that he wasn't gonna let him go off on his own - the two had hailed a cab to the closest airport, and then bought tickets for the first plane set to leave Vienna. They ended up in Romania, after an almost two hour flight.

"Any idea what we're doing next?" Steve asked his friend as they grabbed Bucky's bag and headed straight for the doors, skirting around the multiple groups of people in their path.

Bucky glanced around them the moment they stepped onto the street. "We should focus on finding an empty apartment for now," he answered at length. "After that, we scope the perimeter to make sure there's no one after us. Once we're secure we can figure out the rest."

Steve huffed, shaking his head, following Bucky as he turned down a smaller street to the right of the airport. "I forgot how much you know about hiding."

Bucky turned to look at his friend, seeing - just for a second - a flash of the Steve he'd been before the serum. Small. Weak (though with enough bravado to make you forget that sometimes). Someone he felt he had to protect. Bucky clapped him on the shoulder, barely jostling the blonde despite the strength behind it. "Just think of it like those days when we'd try to find a new place in school to spend our lunches because your most frequent attackers kept finding you. Same principle, you're just... probably less likely to have your nose broken now."

Steve groaned at the reminder. "That only happened once."

Rolling his eyes, Bucky grumbled, "Maybe at school. After that, all bets were off. I must have had to reset your nose at least once every two months until you were twenty-five." He chuckled. "Did you know Daphne and I considered naming our son after you?"

Steve blinked in surprise. "Really?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, for a minute or so. Then we agreed that you probably aren't the best role model for him. I'm already terrified your personality is gonna rub off on him a little too much and he'll start a fight every time someone does or says something he doesn't like. Naming him after you would probably only make that more likely."

Shaking his head, Steve grumbled, "Nice to know you think so highly of me, Buck."

Bucky laughed. "Ah, come off it, Steve. Put yourself in my shoes for a moment. If you were about to have a kid, would you name him after me?"

Steve tilted his head to the side, considering it, then chuckled and shook his head. "No, probably not."

"Exactly," Bucky said with a smirk.

Steve glanced at him again as they crossed a street and entered a narrow alleyway. "So have you decided what you _are_ gonna call him?"

"Not really," Bucky admitted. "We've found a name we both like, but a decision like this isn't easy, even with mutual agreement. It took us most of Daphne's first pregnancy to finally agree to Vera's name."

"What name is that?"

"Jace," came the instant reply as Bucky stopped in an almost completely empty street, looking above him at the various buildings. He narrowed his eyes at a window seventeen floors up. Without another word he headed for the building with Steve following less confidently behind. Bucky walked as if he belonged, which was exactly the impression he needed to give to make it up to the floor he wanted. No one said a word as he and Steve crossed the foyer of the building and headed straight for the stairs.

Steve was frowning as he looked around. The building was tired and old, and clearly not very well cared for. "Why are we here?" he asked.

Bucky chuckled. "Did our previous conversation just go completely over your head, Steve?"

Rolling his eyes, Steve grumbled, "Forgive me for not immediately knowing whether or not this is the place we're supposed to be living in for God knows how long."

Grinning to himself, Bucky pointed out, "You would know if you'd used your eyes."

"Punk."

"Jerk."

"So how do you know where we're headed is empty, anyway?"

Bucky glanced back at him, neither of them beginning to show even the slightest strain despite the fact they'd already scaled five floors. "All the other windows had closed curtains. The apartment we're headed for has newspaper over them instead. A usual sign that it's empty and not for sale either."

Steve was quiet for a moment, before asking, "Do you really think we're gonna be able to keep away from these guys long enough for the others to sort everything out?"

Bucky blew out a heavy breath. "I don't know," he admitted. "You can never know with these sorts of things. Last time I was on the run I spent most of the time moving from place to place, hoping that would throw people off my trail."

"Why not do that this time?"

"Because if the guys _are_ gonna find a way to get this off my shoulders, they'll probably have it done in a week or less. I don't want to be in the middle of the nowhere when the announcement is made that I'm off the hook." He paused for a moment, turning around to face his friend with a serious expression. "You really shouldn't be here, Steve. If we're found, there's nothing either of us can do to stop you from being taken out right alongside me."

Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "I said it before, Buck, I'm not going anywhere. I made a promise to Daphne, and that alone is reason enough to keep me from leaving."

Snorting in amusement, Bucky nodded. "It sometimes concerns me when I think about how much of a hold she has over all of us. I've no idea how she does it."

"In fairness, upsetting her would feel like upsetting your mother," Steve grumbled.

Letting out a bark of laughter, Bucky had to agree, though of course it wasn't quite the same for him as it was for everyone else. "Don't ever tell her that," he warned with a grin.

"Believe it or not," Steve grumbled, "I'm not _that_ stupid."

"Yeah, well, I sometimes seriously question that, Steve."

"Hey!"


	22. 22 - Criminals

**A/N: As usual I'm trying to make everything that happens in this story as believable as possible, but there are some things that might seem like massive leaps for this team. I just want to stress that I've added these leaps to try to emphasise everyone's (particularly Daphne's) desperation for this to be sorted. Not to mention these people are all highly skilled in this sort of thing. If anyone has any problems, please feel free to let me know, and I'll do my best to explain them and/or edit as necessary. Chances are I've missed something somewhere along the road. Also, due to the nature of everything in the this fic, there are some references to AoS that some people might not understand. I've tried to avoid putting in spoilers as much as possible, but because of that a few details have been missed out. Anyway, enough of that, I hope you enjoy!**

 **Big thanks to refractedmoonlight and DWgeek2010 for following :)) Thanks guys!**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: They do, they really do. That's a dynamic I'm gonna be having a lot of fun with in future ;)**

* * *

 **22 - Criminals**

I was grateful to have my attention pulled away from the full-scale search going on around me by the Agents going after my husband. Pietro tapped me on the shoulder and passed me his phone without a word, then disappeared off again. I looked at the screen and saw 'Fitz' flashing up at me.

I pressed the phone against my ear and said without preamble, "Please tell me you've got some good news."

Fitz chuckled shortly. " _Sorry, Daphne. Not good news, as such; just news._ "

I sighed. "Worth a shot," I grumbled. "Alright, Scotty, lay it on me."

" _The bomb this guy used was made mostly of things you can find in your home, but he clearly had a pretty good knowledge of chemistry to know which ones to use. Either that, or he has some other life experience that gives him this kind of knowledge._ "

"Well," I muttered, "based on the quality of the disguise he was wearing to pin the blame on Bucky, we've worked out he's probably either from the military or government."

Fitz hummed on the other side of the line. " _Seems like a fair assumption to make, though following that, military is more likely. Some of the components he used were of much greater quality, and they looked to be from more official sources. It's quite possible he got them from a military camp of some sort._ "

I pursed my lips, running this new information through my head. "Any idea where these things are sourced?"

" _We can't get an exact location due to the fact that the parts seem to have come from a variety of different places, but, from the stamps on the various pieces, we've managed to pin it down to the north of eastern Europe. We've got bits from Russia, Latvia and Belarus._ "

I was quiet for a moment, thinking this through, when a sudden thought occurred to me. "Can you send me a map of that area?"

" _Yeah, sure, give me a minute._ " I took the phone away from my ear and put it on speakerphone, enlarging the image Fitz sent me.

I narrowed my eyes, watching as he marked on the source locations of the foreign parts of the bomb. I selected the editing tool on Pietro's phone and drew a circle around the small area surrounded by Latvia, Lithuania and Belarus. "I think we've found our source."

" _You think our bomber is Sokovian?_ "

I found myself nodding, despite the fact Pietro was the only one close enough to see it. "It makes sense. We were unable to save a lot of people that day. Maybe someone's decided to get revenge on us for it." I bit my lip. "Hey, can you send me a snapshot of the security footage? I want to see what he looks like."

" _Uh... Yeah, okay, why not?_ "

I chuckled at his hesitant tone, before asking quietly, "Fitz?"

" _Hmm?_ "

"Have you found her?"

There was a moment of quiet from the other end of the line, and for a moment I was worried I'd upset him. But then a new, slightly shy voice spoke into the phone. " _Hello._ "

Letting out a laugh of relief, I sent a grin over my shoulder at Pietro, who had obviously been listening in. He smirked at me. "Hi," I replied. "It's good to finally hear from you in person. Your team talked about you so much the last time I saw them I swear it was me who'd been working with you for years."

" _Well, I can certainly say the same for you. Daisy and Fitz seem... uh... particularly fond of you and your husband._ "

I chuckled. "Glad to hear it. And I'm happy you're back, even if we hadn't had the chance to meet yet."

She let out a sigh. " _Yeah. Me too._ "

My phone pinged at me, and I saw the photo that Fitz had sent me. I headed towards the nose of the jet. "Hey, Pietro, do you think you can get this up on a larger screen for me?" Pietro hummed in affirmation and nodded. He swung himself around on the chair, taking my phone from me as he did so and then quickly transferring the image from my phone to the monitor. He leaned back to let me get a closer look. "Well, I can tell you that's definitely not Bucky."

Pietro let out a huff of laughter. "You can seriously tell that from a grainy photo like this?"

I smirked. "You're forgetting how long I've known that man," I commented. I pursed my lips, leaning closer to the screen. "Let's see what we've got... Well, he's narrower - still muscular, but neither his shoulders nor his thighs are quite as broad as Bucky's. About the same foot size... I'd say probably a little shorter too."

" _That's actually scary,_ " Fitz grumbled into the phone.

Chuckling, I shrugged. "Like I said, I know him well. Oh, and, just for the record, I'd like to point out that he would never wear something like _that_ on his head, and he only wears black when he's in his tactical gear - he prefers dark reds and blues, mostly." Letting out a sigh, I straightened, the weight of my baby making my back start to ache. "Fitz, do you think you can do a search through Sokovian military and paramilitary records for someone who might have the knowledge to create a bomb like this, and who matches at least most of the criteria of the guy in this shot?"

" _I'll see what I can dig up, but it might take a few hours._ "

I sighed, but then just said, "It's better than nothing. Thanks, kiddo."

" _No problem. I'll get back to you as soon as I can._ "

And then we both hung up without another word. I glanced out at the street outside the jet, feeling a stab of irritation and anger when I caught sight once again of all the additional Agents milling around, carrying guns and wearing high-quality protective gear.

"You're probably gonna get questioned, you know," Pietro murmured, following my gaze.

I scoffed. "I know. But they won't get anything from me."

"Can you be so sure about that?" I glanced back to see him eyeing my stomach, before he met my eyes again, clearly worried. "They might try to use him against you," he pointed out.

I shook my head. "Try being the operative word," I grumbled. "Believe me, they'd never do anything as inhumane as to actually do him any harm." I winked at him. "Trust me, I used to be in the army. I know this stuff."

A smirk flickered across his face. "Ah yes, I forgot about the fact you're technically an old woman."

"Is that any way to speak to your mother?"

Pietro shrugged. "Probably not, but she's not here right now, so..."

"I'm hurt, Pietro. Truly." He shot me a sideways grin, to which I rolled my eyes and then did the same.

Pietro's face became serious a moment later. "Everything will work out in the end," he told me firmly.

Sighing, I lowered my gaze and murmured, "Can you promise that?" My voice sounded so small and vulnerable, but I didn't care. I was with someone I would trust with my life, someone who I cared deeply for, and I let myself crumble a little knowing I had him by my side.

As if trying to prove me right, Pietro gently took hold of my shoulder and then pulled me into a grounding embrace. "Of course," he replied. "Because I know you won't let it happen any other way. You'd be able to move heaven and earth with the right amount of determination, and I know you'll make sure nothing goes seriously wrong here."

I pulled back from his hug and for a moment I simply watched him, waiting to find a flicker of doubt in his expression. But I saw nothing of the sort. A meagre smile grew on my face. "Thanks, Pietro."

* * *

Steve woke with a start when he felt Bucky's cold, metal hand cover his mouth. His best friend's face was pinched with frustration and concern, and that, more than the way in which he'd been woken, put Steve on edge. After giving Bucky a brief nod, the hand over his mouth was removed and Bucky took a few silent steps back to allow Steve to stand up.

Both men were completely still, straining their ears as the sound of footsteps grew steadily louder around them. They seemed to be coming from all sides, and Steve quickly moved to pick up his shield from its place leaning against the wall. He heard Bucky's arm click and whirr as the brunette grew steadily more tense.

"They've set the perimeter," Bucky told him, his voice hushed. "Armed, full tac gear. Whoever this is-"

"They're not coming to arrest you," Steve finished, pursing his lips in irritation. He knew that Bucky didn't really want to be a part of this sort of life anymore, even if it was the one he knew best. He had a family and a wife, and every mess he got dragged into meant putting them all in danger, and he knew how much Bucky hated that. Now people were after him and they were planning to kill him... Steve shivered at the thought of having to tell Daphne he'd failed to save his best friend.

Bucky huffed. "It was always gonna happen eventually," he grumbled.

Steve shook his head. "This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck."

"It _always_ ends in a fight," his friend countered grimly.

"Are you really going to risk that?" Steve asked warily, knowing Bucky would probably hate being doubted, but he knew he needed to be reminded how Daphne would feel if Bucky died.

As expected, the response was an exasperated look. "It's my best chance of getting back to them."

"If you fight then people will think you're guilty - you said so yourself."

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, if I don't fight I'm dead for sure. Out of the two, I'd rather pick the outcome where the chances are I'll be able to survive." He suddenly tensed again, head whipping towards the window a moment before a grenade flew threw the glass. Steve leapt towards it and slammed his shield on top a moment before the explosive went off. He looked up to see Bucky throwing a mattress in front of the window, and a second later a second grenade flew in, only to bounce back outside off the mattress. Steve's head whipped towards the door when he heard the sound of crashing, but Bucky was already one step ahead; he grabbed a table and flung it as hard as he could towards the door, jamming it closed.

Both friends lunged towards the windows as heavily armoured men flung themselves inside their little apartment. Steve grabbed a man's arm and threw him towards the far wall before turning to the next, kicking this guy in the gut and sending him sprawling out onto the small stone balcony. He then raised his shield and thrust it backwards, catching the first guy in the head and knocking him out cold. The moment there was even the slightest reprieve, Steve turned to Bucky and said, "Get out of here, before there are too many of them."

Bucky grunted and caught the fist of his opponent, before throwing him onto the ground. He glanced up at Steve. "What about you?"

"I'll keep them off your back as much as I can," Steve answered, both of them jolting when they heard the door start to crack under the beating it was taking. "Bucky," he muttered as he spotted another wave of Agents on their way, "just go."

Pursing his lips, Bucky let out a sigh and then nodded, heading straight towards the door. He yanked back the table, sending it careening into a man just as he burst through the window, before sending his fist straight through the door.

Steve focused on clearing the apartment of opponents, trying his hardest not to kill any of them, before following Bucky out into the stairwell. He was unsurprised to see a litter of unconscious bodies on the floor, and quickly threw himself back into the fight. Despite knowing he could look after himself, Steve kept a close eye on Bucky the whole time, knowing that something horrifying could happen without him knowing if he didn't.

Steve jerked in surprise when he suddenly saw Bucky leap over the stair rail, falling several floors before grabbing hold of another rail with his metal arm. He let out a grunt of pain, before swinging himself over and out of sight. Steve shook off the distraction and began taking out the Agents who moved to follow Bucky, none of them seeming particularly interested in him. It seemed their orders were very specific, and didn't involve him.

That could very well work to his advantage.

* * *

I couldn't breathe. I could hardly bear to watch, and yet I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen. Bucky and Steve had been found in Bucharest, and what followed had clearly caught the attention of the media, because they were showing footage of it on almost every news channel. Pietro stood silently beside me, with Wanda, Natasha and Tony hovering slightly behind. All of us were watching the screen closely, knowing that, from here on out, things could only get worse for those two. The sheer size of the force that had been pulled together to take Bucky in would have been impressive, were it not so damn disgusting to witness. Even with a second supersoldier to fight against, and even with all their enhanced capabilities, Steve and Bucky honestly didn't stand much of a chance of escaping.

My breath caught in my throat when a new player entered the field - the Black Panther. What was he doing there? I unconsciously took a step closer to the screen, my eyes welded open as I watched him approach my husband, mentally praying it wasn't what I thought it was.

A breath of relief left my throat when I realised the two seemed to actually be teaming up, not attacking each other.

It wasn't long before the news helicopters were unable to follow the action, as Bucky and T'Challa moved under cover, Steve following a scant few seconds later. Then, to everyone's astonishment, _Sam_ appeared on screen, flying low and disappearing out of sight under the covered road.

"Was that Wilson?" Tony asked aloud, apparently needing to check he wasn't going crazy.

"Yeah," Natasha replied quietly. "He left not long after they did to give them backup."

For several minutes that each felt like a lifetime the only sounds I could hear were the commentator's voice, and my own thundering heartbeat. But even they were muffled and indistinct, just meaningless background noise as I stare ceaselessly at the screen. Something in my died a little when I saw the words 'Captain America Arrested' scroll across the screen, and in a flash I had my phone in my hand and was dialling his number.

I let out a sigh of relief when the phone was answered, only for a cold feeling to spread over my veins when I heard Rhodes' familiar voice on the other end of the line. " _Daphne?_ "

I was silent for a long time, my mind unable to filter this new piece of information. Steve had been arrested... by Rhodes?! "What are you doing?" I asked him quietly, a vague hope in the back of my mind that I was just imagining this.

I heard Rhodes sigh over the sound of shouting voices on the other end. " _My job,_ " he answered solemnly.

"That's funny," I shot back through gritted teeth, "I didn't know arresting your friends was part of your job description."

" _They did this themselves. We have no choice but to take them in_."

Narrowing my eyes, my grip tightened on my phone, causing it to creak in protest. "That's bullshit at you know it."

" _Look,_ " Rhodes said with a sigh, " _everything's ridiculously complicated right now and despite the fact we know it wasn't him, we have no way of proving otherwise. I've got no choice - I have to bring him in_."

"Bullshit," I snapped again, shaking my head. "There's always a way."

" _Listen, right now isn't the time to be discussing this. I've gotta go_." And without another word he hung up.

Growling in frustration, I slammed my down on the table in front of me, uncaring of the fact I cracked the screen while doing so. For a moment my mind was blank, and I was unable to think of anything at all, but then I turned my gaze back towards the TV screen and dimly noted that the reporter was saying they were being taken to some secure facility in Berlin. I straightened my spine and took a deep breath, before turning and heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Tony asked with a hint of genuine concern in his voice.

"To fix this," I shot back coldly. I paused by the door and turned to face my friends, Pietro and Tony looking worried, Natasha wearing a mask of emotionlessness. "Don't try to stop me," I warned. "And Tony, don't do the thing."

"The what? What the hell is the 'thing'?"

I rolled my eyes. "You'll know it when you think of it," I grumbled, before leaving and pulling the door shut behind me. I knew I'd promised Bucky that I'd focus on finding the bomber before getting him out of this mess, but knowing that he and Steve - and probably T'Challa and Sam too - had been arrested made me change my path. For whatever reason, everyone had believed that Bucky had blown up this building without a second thought, and I was determined to not only find out why, but also to prove to them just how big a mistake they'd made. And I didn't care what I had to do to achieve that.


	23. 23 - Probably Worse Than The Hulk

**A/N: I know this is late, and I'm so sorry, but with it being mother's day AND the celebration of my cousin's eighteenth birthday this weekend, I've just had no time to write or post the last few days. So sorry. Still, I've got it up now. A little more Steve's POV this chapter though :P**

 **Big thanks to: cheakymaid, Currer. B, TMNTGirl and VayaAriel for following/favouriting. :)**

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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: You may have to wait a little while to find that out ;)**

* * *

 **23 - Probably Worse Than The Hulk**

Steve released a small sigh as he, Sam and T'Challa were let out of the van they'd been hurriedly shoved into back in Bucharest. The whole situation was less than ideal, but he had a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him it was only going to get worse from here on out.

He glanced over at Bucky, pursing his lips at the large cage they'd put him in, though Bucky himself seemed resigned to his new position, if not a little irritated.

"What's going to happen?" Steve asked before he could stop himself, moving his gaze to the short, grey haired man in front of him, beside whom was standing Sharon Carter.

"Same thing that ought to happen to you," came the reply. "Psychological evaluation and extradition."

"This is Everett Ross," Sharon said briefly. "Deputy task force manager."

"Another Ross?" Same asked with a smirk. "Oh, Daphne is _not_ gonna be happy."

"Ah yes," Ross mused with a half-smirk. "The newly estranged wife."

Sharon shook her head. "Probably not a good idea to say that in front of her, sir," she muttered.

Ross shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "We've got her husband in custody - she should know to be careful."

"If you think that's gonna stop her, then you _really_ don't know her," Steve grumbled, though there was still a tone of affection in his voice. Daphne was a little like him in that sense - regardless of rules and regulations, her first priority was always the happiness and safety of her friends and family. He was painfully aware of everything she went through for Bucky, especially back in the day. They all were.

"I know enough," Ross countered, before turning to the people carrying Steve's shield and Sam's wings out of the van. "See their weapons are placed in the lock-up." He glanced back at them. "Oh, we'll write you a receipt."

"I better not look out the window and see anybody flying around in that," Sam grumbled, watching as their things were carted away. "Then again..." He tilted his head to the side, and Steve chuckled, knowing where his mind had gone - the same place as his - Daphne. Sam shook his head. "What makes you so damn sure Barnes is the culprit here anyway?"

"You mean besides the video evidence?"

"We all know that's not really enough anymore," Steve murmured. "If it were, we could just show you some footage from the Avengers facility to counteract it. You'd claim it was falsified, just like we say the other footage is."

"But that's alright," Sam said with a hint of glee. "'Cause we've got one of the best working towards getting our asses out of this place."

"Oh? And who's that?" Ross' voice now help an element of genuine curiosity, whereas before he seemed to be only half listening.

"Command Sergeant Major Evelyn Imogen Moore," Steve retorted with a grin. "More commonly known as Daphne Juliet Barnes."

Ross blinked, opening and closing his mouth a few times, obviously trying to work out how to respond. "That's impossible," he muttered, shaking his head.

Steve chuckled. "Look who you're talking too," he pointed out. If he could be almost a hundred years old and still look like someone barely above thirty, it made sense that she could too. Sometimes people just seemed to forget that Steve had a life before he became a superhero.

"For all we know, Daphne could already be on her way here," Sam stated with another of those smirks.

Steve frowned. "I told her to stay behind-"

"You really think she'd listen to you? Maybe if it were just Bucky, but now these guys have also captured the rest of us. You're one of the closest things to a brother she's got, T'Challa over there is the son of one of her oldest friends, and while I may not rank quite as high as you, I'm still her friend." He chuckled. "Yeah, she's definitely coming here." He glanced at Ross, grinning slyly. "Personally, I can't wait."

Ross rolled his eyes. "What's so special about this girl anyway?"

"You're kidding, right?" Sharon asked in shock, staring at the man, who just looked blankly at her. "You seriously don't know?"

"Daphne's past is hardly public knowledge," Steve reminded her.

"Care to enlighten me?" Ross inquired with an air of impatience.

"In a nutshell," Sam said, looking like he was enjoying this far too much, "she's an 156 year old, serum-enhanced, ex-assassin, ex-military, half Asgardian warrior who secretly helped to found S.H.I.E.L.D., and is now, as previously discussed, married to the Winter Soldier." Ross blinked, but Sam wasn't done yet. "She's also got a not-quite year old daughter at home and is currently six months pregnant with baby number two."

"Long story short," Sharon put in with a half-smile, "she's probably the last person you want to be meeting right now."

"Damn right," Sam agreed with a laugh. "You'd probably have better luck surviving a run-in with the Hulk."

Sharon chuckled. "That might be going a little far."

"I dunno," Steve murmured, thinking back to their days fighting Hydra in the 40s, "you've yet to see her get _properly_ angry."

"Really? What did she do?"

Steve hesitated, not really wanting to share one of Daphne's worst moments to strangers, before remembering she probably wouldn't be too bothered right now. "She once got so upset that she single-handedly raided a Hydra base and managed to get out with all their important intel before blowing up the whole building. All in the space of about fifteen minutes. Tops."

Ross was frowning deeply now, and while Steve knew his concern was for a good reason, he wasn't too pleased to note that Ross didn't seem scared of her, as such, but rather seemed to be contemplating whether to lock her up as well. Or at least, that's the impression he got. He widened his stance subconsciously. Well, that sure as hell wasn't gonna happen if he had any say in it.

"For the record," a new voice said without amusement, and Steve turned to see Tony and Natasha walking towards him, "this is what making things worse looks like."

Steve rolled his eyes. "He's alive, isn't he?"

Natasha shook her head. "Just try not to break anything while we're fixing this." She looked around. "Any sign of Daphne?"

Steve frowned. "No, why?"

"She left before we did," Natasha explained. "We thought she'd be here by now."

"Unless that's not her plan," Tony pointed out. "And I'm pretty sure there's only one person in the world who knows how that woman thinks-"

"Yeah, well, he's currently unavailable," Sam muttered, all of them glancing over at Bucky, who was staring pointedly at the wall in front of him.

Tony sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "Look, whatever's going on here, it's not good. Secretary Ross wants you prosecuted. I had to give him something, so I promised there'd be 'consequences'. Haven't quite figured out what they're supposed to be yet."

Steve felt himself smiling. "I'm not getting that shield back, am I?"

"Technically, it's the government's property," Natasha stated with a shrug. "Wings too."

Sam scoffed. "That's cold."

"Warmer than jail," Tony retorted. "Which is where you'd be without a little help from yours truly."

Shrugging, Sam pointed out, "We've been in worse situations."

"Careful, Wilson," Ross warned, and the sound of his voice was something of a surprise. Steve had honestly forgotten he was still there. Sharon and T'Challa, too, were still hovering nearby, though neither of them had spoken much, or at all in the case of the latter. "I have the authority to put you somewhere worse should I deem it necessary."

At that moment a man in black tac gear jogged up to them, seeming a little shaken. "Sir, we've got a breach."

Ross blinked. "We've got what? A breach? What do you-?"

"It's a woman, sir," came the breathless reply. "She... She looks like she's on a warpath."

"That would be Daphne," Tony pointed out lightly. "Wondered where she'd got to."

Ross was frowning. "There are almost four dozen highly trained men out there. How is she getting through?!"

"Well, sir, she appears to be an enhanced, and no one wants to shoot at her because she's-"

"Pregnant," Ross finished with a sigh. "The moral side always makes things far more complicated."

"It would be a lot simpler if you just let her in without a fight," Natasha pointed out with another nonchalant shrug, her face as blank as ever to those who didn't know her, but Steve noticed the gleam in her eye and the slight smirk twitching at her lips. "She's gonna get to this point whether she has opposition or not. It would be a lot less painful for everyone if you just told your men to stand down."

Ross opened his mouth to reply, but before even the slightest sound could escape his lips the closest doors were blasted open, slamming into the walls with enough force to dent them. Steve blinked in shock. He'd seen Daphne angry before but this... was something far beyond anything he'd experienced. She looked like Death personified, stalking towards the group with a darkness to her eyes that honestly terrified him slightly.

The armed soldiers in the room seemed to have no idea what to do, torn between apprehending her and being appropriately unwilling to get anywhere near her. The whole room was quiet as she finally came a stop in amongst the group, her eyes darting over him, Sam, Tony and Natasha, before skipping over Steve's shoulder to where Bucky was. Following her gaze, Steve couldn't stop himself from smirking just slightly in amusement when he saw the slack-jawed, dumbfounded expression on Bucky's face.

Steve glanced back at the raging blonde beside him just in time to see her shake her head and roll her eyes at her husband, before turning her sharp, icy stare on Ross, who, to his credit, managed to look unfazed. She then started talking to him in a low voice, though Steve probably figured she hadn't noticed she'd automatically slipped into Russian.

With an exaggerated sigh, Natasha translated. "With far fewer swear words and threats, she says she going to talk to Bucky, and that she'll take out anyone who gets in her way."

Ross frowned. "I can't accept that-"

"Honestly," Daphne cut in sharply, eyes narrowing, "I wasn't asking your permission. I was just warning you not to fight me on this." She glanced at everyone again, eyes lingering on the small cut above Steve's eyebrow, before spinning on her heel and heading towards Bucky. No one tried to stop her this time.

* * *

Bucky looked haggard in a tired kind of way, but the thing that pissed me off most was the indignity he was being put through. Steve and Sam and T'Challa had been allowed free, without even any cuffs, and yet he had been strapped down and put in this stupid _transparent_ cage as if to be ogled and mocked. And I hated that.

Bucky eyed me strangely as I got closer, as if he couldn't work out whether or not to be glad I was there. Eventually, he settled on a disapproving frown. " _I thought I told you to stay behind_ ," he mumbled in Russian when I finally came to a stop in front of him.

I shook my head. " _Steve said that. You said nothing of the sort._ "

Rolling his eyes, Bucky muttered, " _You still shouldn't be here._ "

" _I had to make sure you were okay,_ " I replied quietly, softening my voice. " _Are you?_ "

He shrugged as best he could in his position. " _I've been in better places, but I'm not hurt_." He frowned again. " _And you? That was quite the entrance. If you-_ "

" _I'm okay,_ " I cut in quickly, smiling. " _We both are_." His eyes flashed down to my stomach, and he sagged slightly in relief. I pressed my hand against the glass, resisting the urge to break it and free him. " _I'm gonna get you out,_ " I promised him. " _I'll find a way to prove you're innocent, and everything will go back to normal. We can do what Secretary Ross said - we retire from this life. I think... That's what we want, isn't it?_ "

Smiling softly, Bucky nodded. " _This isn't the type of life I want our kids to grow into,_ " he admitted. " _When they're older they can make their own choices, but for now, I want to keep them as far from violence and conflict as I can_."

" _Yeah,_ " I murmured, gazing sadly down at him, knowing being pinned down would be bringing back a whole truckload of unpleasant memories for him. " _One thing at a time, though, eh?_ "

" _That's a bit more difficult for someone in your position,_ " he pointed out with a crooked grin. " _Foreknowledge kind of ruins things like that_."

I shrugged. " _What do I know anymore? I'm just making it up as I go these days; same as everyone else_."

" _Well, maybe that's the point,_ " Bucky suggested, those deep blue eyes boring into me with such affection and such softness I just wanted to melt. " _You were brought into this world before all of this happens - happened - yeah, I don't know. But my point is... maybe everything before now has had to stay the same - and you've done a good job of keeping it like that - but from here, you're supposed to make changes by just going with your gut_."

" _I don't think I'll ever find out why I was dropped here, or how. All I know is that, whatever the reason for me being dumped here, I can never regret it. Not ever. Because it brought me to you. To you, and to the Avengers. Yeah, what I did all those years under Hydra's thumb really sucked, but in the end I know that, without them, all of this would be different. And there's nothing about this that I would change_." I huffed, glancing at the cage again. " _Well, maybe one or two things,_ " I grumbled, making Bucky chuckle.

" _Yeah, this situation is definitely less than ideal, but... it could be worse_." He tilted his head to the side. " _Do you have any ideas about this guy?_ "

Sighing, I replied, " _We think he's most likely Sokovian military of some sort. Fitz should be getting to me any time now with potential candidates, but it could still take a while_." Huffing, I grumbled, " _Why aren't things as easy as they used to be?_ "

Bucky chuckled. " _Because you're not amongst army soldiers, and technically you're not in the army either. You can't use your authority to get things done the way you want anymore_."

I smirked. " _Well, things clearly aren't so different if I can still scare a bunch of trained soldiers into not attacking me_."

Shaking his head, Bucky sent me a mocking grin. " _Something tells me that's more to do with your likeness to whale than anything else_."

I shot him a scandalised look. "I do not look like a whale!" I unwittingly reverted back to English, and in doing so alerted everyone within hearing distance (which, with the volume of my voice, was most of the people in the area) to our topic of conversation. I shot a glare over my shoulder when I heard one of the guys guarding Bucky's cage chortling under his breath and translating to his friends. He wisely shut up once he caught the look, though I could sense some of his amusement lingered. I turned back to Bucky and gave him a stony look. " _Now look what you've done_."

He smirked, looking completely unapologetic. " _Based on last time, it'll only be another week or so before you start calling yourself that_."

" _And it's at that point you're supposed to tell me that of course I don't look like a fucking whale,_ " I snapped back, though the grin that was trying to fight its way onto my face lessened the impact of my words by a considerable amount.

Bucky chuckled. " _And I will, don't worry. But this was an opportunity I wasn't about to pass up_."

Shaking my head, I pushed away from the cage and grumbled, " _Ass,_ " before turning away and heading back to the others.

I couldn't stop myself from smiling when Bucky called after me, " _Love you too_."


	24. 24 - The Other Ones

**A/N: So just a heads up - I haven't written THE scene (you'll know it when you get to it) into this because it's a great scene in the movie, and I'm pretty sure I'd cock it up in writing. You know what happens, so here I'm giving you a slightly different perspective. Hope you enjoy it :)**

 **Big thanks to nitrogenase and VayaAriel for following/favouriting.**

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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: 'Life's just been a bit blah'... I can relate to that, my friend. :P**

* * *

 **24 - The Other Ones**

"Don't tell me they've actually got you locked up in here," Daphne grumbled as she and Sharon entered the office space Sam and Steve had yet to leave.

Steve shrugged. "Could be worse," he reminded her, his mind going straight to Bucky. He had no idea where his best friend had ended up, but he knew it wouldn't have been anything like this.

"They got Bucky a bloody psychologist," Daphne told him with a frown. "I met him downstairs and... I dunno, Steve, but something about him set me on edge."

"Do you think...?"

Shaking her head, Daphne sat down with a heavy sigh. "I don't know. And anyway it's not like I can do anything without proof. I'm still waiting for Fitz to get in touch with me." Steve sent her a sympathetic look as she put her head in her hands. "I can't deal with all this stress," she admitted quietly. "It's gotten to the point now where I'm beginning to feel genuinely ill, not to mention Junior won't stop moving. I swear he's got six hands and nine feet with how many limbs I'm being hit by."

"Maybe you should take a break for a while," Steve suggested. "We've got this handled."

Daphne let out what sounded like an actual _whine_. "You have no idea how good that sounds, but I can't, and you know it _._ I promised him I wouldn't, and it's not like I would let the government keep him locked up anyway. The fact he's innocent is just adding salt to the wound."

"Daphne," Sam piped up, a serious and firm tone to his voice that seemed out of place in the usually light-hearted man, "you're not doing anyone any favours by exhausting yourself. And we don't know what this pressure is gonna be doing to your son - babies can detect stress and it affects them in the same way. Just have a moment to yourself, okay? Go down to the lobby and get yourself a cup of terrible coffee from a machine and - I dunno - call Kaia or something."

Sighing, Daphne reluctantly stood up again, letting out a soft breath as her hand fell to rest on her stomach. "You guys are assholes, you know that?" she muttered, but was nonetheless smiling gratefully as she stepped out of the office once more.

Steve sighed, watching her go with concerned eyes, before turning to face Sam. "Can babies really detect stress?"

Sam shrugged. "From what I read, yeah, seems like it. And you know how Vera gets whenever she has to part from those two - it's like she knows they're going off to do something dangerous."

Nodding in agreement, Steve sat down in Daphne's previous seat and put his head on his hands, elbows resting on the table. After a moment he sighed again. "What do you think is gonna happen next?" he asked no one in particular. "Whatever's going on here, it must be serious for her to be so worked up about it. Bucky's been in worse situations and she's been more calm than this. And I really don't think her pregnancy hormones would be enough to throw her so far off, so there must be something else."

Sam shook his head hopelessly. "I've got no idea, Steve. Maybe it's just the fact she doesn't know what's going on anymore. When she knows what's gonna happen, it gives her time to think. Don't get me wrong, she's an expert at thinking on the spot, too, I just think that maybe it's all just hitting her at once and she isn't sure how to cope. Daphne's a bit like you in that way."

Steve blinked, frowning. "In what way?"

"She feels like she has to do everything alone, and forgets that she has other people to rely on to help. She's getting better at it, but she still carries way too much weight on her shoulders."

Steve let his gaze drop to the table and considered this. Sam was right that Daphne was in way over her head, but was too stubborn to admit it. He himself didn't think that Daphne couldn't deal with not knowing things for certain - after all, she'd had eight decades to get used to the idea - but he noticed she was starting to rely more on her reflexive emotional response than her tactical one. What that meant or why that was, he wasn't sure, but he just hoped that it didn't get her into a position she couldn't get out of.

* * *

There were a surprising number of people outside, lingering around the facility. Though after a moment I figured it perhaps wasn't so surprising after all - it's not everyday that some of the Avengers get arrested. Still, the fact they were all there, trying to catch a glimpse of one of us like we were animals on show at a zoo was enough to dampen my mood to record lows. Taking a breath, I decided to take Sam's advice and call Kaia.

She answered on the third ring, and the first words I heard from the other end of the line were, " _Please tell me you're coming home soon_."

I chuckled. "Not even close. Why? What's wrong?"

Kaia sighed. " _Vera's borderline catatonic right now, because she has no idea where you are. She's gone very quiet, and doesn't want to eat or sleep half the time. I'm worried about her_."

I frowned. "If it's that bad why didn't you message me sooner?"

" _I did,_ " she said, and my frown deepened. " _Like twelve times. It kept saying there was a problem with the sending process so none of them went through. I tried calling you, and Bucky, and Steve, and Natasha, and Tony, and anyone else who might be somewhere near you. Either there's something wrong with my phone, or all of yours_."

I let out a breath. "Do you want to give her the phone? She might not be able to say much but it might help to reassure her if she can hear me."

" _Yeah, sure. Give me a second_."

I bit my bottom lip as I heard a faint shuffling sound from the other end of the line, then I heard a timid voice in my ear. " _Mama?_ "

A smile stretched across my lips without a moment's hesitation. "Hey, sweetie," I said in return. "What's going on over there, hmm?"

" _You on TV._ "

I blinked. "Am I?"

" _You and daddy,_ " she continued. " _Home?_ "

I sighed. "I can't come home right now, Vera. I'm sorry, but I've got things to sort out. But everything's gonna be okay. I promise. Now you be a good girl for your Aunt Kaia, okay?"

" _Okay_."

I felt tears crawling into my eyes at the downtrodden tone of her voice, but before I could say anything else, Kaia was talking again. " _You'd better finish that up quick, Daph. I don't think I've ever seen her this upset. She misses you like crazy_."

Shaking my head, I murmured, "I miss her too. I'm going as fast as I can but..." I trailed off when I noticed all the armed guards in the area around me were running into the building, shouting indistinguishable orders to one another in frantic German. "Kaia, I gotta go. Something's going on."

" _Okay, Daphne, but be careful_."

"I will. Love you."

" _Love you too_."

I hung up the phone, shoving it in my pocket and then following the armed men back inside the facility. Once in the main area, I froze in my step, looking around me at what could only be described as utter chaos. Chairs had been knocked over, paper littered on the floor, and three of the ceiling lights were broken. It looked like a warzone, and yet it was at the same time deserted. Once the men I'd followed back inside disappeared, I was alone. Whatever was going on, clearly it was bad enough that even the most basic defences had to be abandoned. A cold shiver went down my spine.

A low curse in Russian escaped my lips when my phone pinged at me, the sudden noise - harmless though it was - catching me completely by surprise. I rolled my eyes at my own skittishness, before pulling out my phone again. It was a message from Fitz, with seven images of potential candidates. I flicked through them, nibbling on my bottom lip, before freezing when I saw the picture of Bucky's psychiatrist. With an internal wince, I returned the image of the man with a single word - 'him' - and then tucked my phone away, ready to head on a manhunt for him.

Only, when I looked up, he was already there, and within a split-second my vision dimmed and became red-tinged at the sides. He seemed just as surprised to see me there as I was to see him, though his intentions were clear - escape. I wasn't about to let that happen.

"Why are you doing all this?" I asked him, genuinely curious. I tried to keep my fury from my voice, though it wasn't easy. He was screwing things up in our lives, and I hated him for that, but I knew he _had_ to have a reason.

For a moment, the man - Helmut Zemo, according to his file - just stared at me, looking to all the world as if he were considering attempting to just fight his way past me. He had the training for it. But I had more training, better training, and we both knew I'd wipe the floor with him if it came down to a fight, pregnant or not. He tilted his head to the side. "Even the Avengers are not innocent."

I scoffed. "Anyone who thinks we are is kidding themselves," I told him, and he blinked once, slowly. Maybe I surprised him with that. "It is our lack of innocence that makes us so good at our jobs. We have a reason to fight, and for most of us that reason is because we are ashamed of who we used to be. None of us are innocent. But does that make us bad people?"

He shook his head, and even from half a room away I could see him clenching his jaw. "When people die because of your transgressions, you lose the right to carry the title of a 'good person'."

I tilted my head to the side, ignoring the wave of dizziness that crashed over me as I did so. Another uncomfortable chill shot through my body. "You lost someone." His expression darkened. "More than one," I corrected mildly. "The Sokovia attack, yes?"

He shook his head. "I should not be-"

"But you are," I cut in. "And you and I both know I'm not letting you leave. This has gone far beyond revenge."

He scowled. "My family are dead because of the mess you caused in my country," he hissed.

"And that's what the Accords are trying to solve," I reminded him, taking a step forward, only to stop when my leg almost buckled. I frowned, swaying a little on my feet, then narrowed my eyes at him. His eyes had widened. "What have you done to me?" I asked slowly, feeling like my body was being slowly filled with lead, my limbs growing gradually heavier and heavier. My heart started to pick up pace. "What have you done?!"

But Zemo shook his head. "Nothing."

I snarled at him, eyes flashing, only to then stagger as my right leg caved for a moment. In a flash Zemo was by my side, his eyes emotionless as he hovered next to me, arms reaching out to support me or grab me, I wasn't sure, and I wasn't about to wait to find out. I tried to shove him aside, my hand gripping his arm hard enough for him to wince, but he in turn grabbed hold of me, pinning me in a position I was too light-headed to fight my way out of. "What did you do?" I asked again, a cold chill sweeping over my body even as darkness crept in from the side of my vision.

"Nothing," he repeated, holding me tighter as my legs failed properly this time, and I fell into the black vortex of oblivion.

* * *

Bucky groaned, feeling like a whole battalion of horses were pounding their way through his head. His ears were ringing, though that quickly faded, and his body felt weary right to the core - a sensation he hadn't felt since Vera was born. He was surprised to note there was an uncomfortable tug in his left arm, and he turned his head to see it was clamped down. He clenched his fist, giving his arm a half-hearted tug, but it wouldn't move.

"Hey, Steve!" he heard Sam call, wincing when another pang of pain shot through his head, before blinking a few times and then slowly lifting his head, letting out a small huff of discomfort as he did.

"Steve?" he managed to force out.

"You okay, Bucky?"

He nodded after a moment, then winced again as a dim memory sprung up in his mind. "What did I do?"

"Enough."

Bucky sighed, lowering his head to the floor, realising that perhaps he shouldn't ask for more details. He couldn't remember yet what had happened, but he knew it wouldn't be long before he did. It was moments like these - though they were few and far between - when he wished he could remain oblivious. "I should have known this would happen," he said. "Everything Hydra put in my head is still there." He shook his head. "All he had to do was say those goddamn words..." He glanced up. "Who was he?"

"We don't know yet," Steve answered, frowning. "We're still awaiting word on Daphne."

His body jerked forward automatically, causing him to wince when his shoulder was yanked back by the pressure on his arm. After a hesitant glance at Steve, Sam stepped forward and began removing the pressure from his arm. Bucky barely noticed, his eyes boring into Steve's head, the blonde suddenly not meeting his eyes. "What happened?" he demanded, barely noticing as his arm slipped from its previous position.

Steve closed his eyes, expression pained, before he admittedly quietly, "We don't know. She disappeared during your... relapse."

Bucky let out a growl. "Did he take her? That man?"

"We don't know," Steve repeated. "But we're going to find out." He paused, glancing over at Sam for a moment before asking, "What did he want?"

Bucky sighed. "I don't know."

Steve's eyes narrowed, and Bucky detected the lecture coming before the first word even left the Captain's lips. "People have been hurt, Buck. If it weren't for Daphne, they'd be dead. The bombing, the set up... the doctor did all that just to get ten minutes with you. I need you to do better than 'I don't know'."

Bucky groaned quietly, trying to filter through the distorted images and sounds in his fragmented memory of the last... well, he wasn't sure how long it had been. Then a few words managed to push their way through the darkness. _Mission report: December 16th 1991._

"He wanted to know about Siberia," he said at length, frowning and _trying_ to focus on the problem at hand, but his mind kept skipping back to Daphne. Was she okay? Was she a hostage? It seemed unlikely, given her combat experience, but with her current condition, he knew better than to ignore any possibility, no matter how improbable. He gave his head a small shake in an attempt to clear it, before looking up at Steve again. "Where I was kept - he wanted to know exactly where."

"Why would he need to know that?" Steve asked.

Bucky sighed. Part of him had hoped this whole mess was far behind him, that he'd never have to think about the _others_ again, let alone see them. "Because," he answered grimly, "Daphne and I aren't the only ones of our kind."

Sam and Steve frowned deeply. "You mean they had more soldiers?" Sam questioned, obviously deeply troubled by the news. Bucky knew he would be too, were it not for the fact he had _been there_ at the time, had even helped to train them to get used to their new abilities.

"Who were they?" Steve asked.

"Their most elite death squad." Bucky clenched his fists as a rush of memories suddenly assaulted him, and he winced when he realised he'd not only attacked the German guards back at the facility, but also Steve, Sam, Natasha, Sharon and even T'Challa in his attempts to escape the place. He blinked away the distraction. "More kills that anyone in Hydra history," he continued, "and that was before the serum."

Sam frowned again. "And they all turned out like you?"

"Worse."

Steve tilted his head to the side. "The doctor, could he control them?"

Bucky pursed his lips, before stating grimly, "Enough."

"He said he wanted to see an empire fall," Steve mused.

Bucky couldn't help but huff, though there was no amusement in the sound. "With these guys he could do it," he informed them quietly. "They speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilise... They could take down a whole country in one night and you'd never see them coming."

Sam let out a long, slow breath. "This would have been a lot easier a week ago."

"If we could... If we call Tony-"

"He might not believe us," Sam cut in.

"Even if he did-"

"Who knows if the Accords will let him help," Sam finished again, nodding his head grimly.

Steve let a pained expression cross his face, looking at Bucky, who was straight-faced and slightly ashen, but nonetheless determined. "We're on our own," the Captain announced despondently.

Sam tilted his head to the side. "Maybe not," he murmured. "I know a guy."


	25. 25 - A Little Black Book

**A/N: Okay, so you know a while ago I said this would be around twenty chapters, that's obviously gone to hell now. I just keep writing and it gets longer and longer. Sorry. Anyway, at this point I'm thinking it'll be about 30/31 chapters long, which might be a new record. :) Thanks for everyone who's reading this, and as always, I hope you enjoy!**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Here, as requested: answers. Well, some of them, anyway.**

* * *

 **25 - A Little Black Book**

I woke with a jerk, grabbing hold of the armrest beside me to stop myself from falling out of the chair I'd been haphazardly placed into. A grimace flashed across my face before I could stop it, my head swimming and the world spinning.

"Are you alright?"

The voice - now vaguely familiar - was unexpected, to say the least. The softness, the genuine concern, was even more surprising. I glanced up and around me, taking note of the tatty walls and the hole-covered chair I was slouched on, then finally let my eyes fall on Zemo. His brows were pinched as he looked me over. Groaning, I pushed myself up straight, hearing my back pop a few times. Junior wiggled beneath me, seemingly making himself comfortable now I wasn't twisted so awkwardly.

It was another second or two before I finally answered Zemo's question, though to call it an answer would be perhaps overstating things a little. "Why do you care?"

Zemo hesitated for a moment, before saying, "I didn't do anything to you," as if that made all the difference in the world. Maybe he believed it did. His eyes darted down almost too quickly for me to catch it, but I did, and my whole body tensed in response. "You asked me why I'm doing this," he began, frowning again. "I'm doing it because I lost everyone that day. Everyone I had left."

I slowly leaned forward, hoping against reason that maybe I could get him to stop this. "Tell me what happened."

He eyed me with a little suspicion, but I could tell this was a story he'd been unable to tell for a long time, and he soon caved to my request. "My father lived outside the city. I thought we would be safe there." A tiny, sad smile flickered onto his face. "My son was so excited. He could see the Iron Man from the car window. And I told my wife, 'Don't worry. They are fighting in the city. We are miles from harm.'" He swallowed tightly. "When the dust cleared, and the screaming stopped, it took me two days until I found their bodies. My father... still holding my wife and son in his arms. And the Avengers? You went home. I knew I couldn't kill you. More powerful men than me have tried. But what if...?" He cut himself off, seemingly surprised he'd let so much slip.

Unbidden, a sliver of sympathy wormed its way into my stomach, furiously battling the rage that had already made its home there. "What if you could get us to kill each other," I finished quietly, letting my gaze fall to my hands.

"I've thought of nothing else for over a year." He glanced at me again, frowning. "I didn't realise..."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Bucky and I are trying to get away from this." I wasn't sure why I was telling him this, but like him, I didn't seem to be able to stop. "We're trying live the life we've always wanted for ourselves and for each other... But just when we think we've finally settled, something else happens to drag us back into this. And the thing is we don't fight it, because despite how much we want to just calm things down, this has always been who we are. We're both assassins, we're both soldiers, and we will _never_ be able to escape that. Not fully. But we're trying."

Zemo eyed me closely, his expression unreadable. "Are you married?"

I was surprised by the question. "You don't... You don't know?"

He shook his head. "I didn't think you were really part of the Avengers. You fought at Sokovia, but after that you just disappeared. Even after the mess with the... What was it? A care home? Even after all that neither of you appeared again. I never gave either of you much thought."

A small smile made its way onto my face as I remembered the day I married Bucky, which was arguably the best day of my long life. "Bucky and I got married in October 2014," I told him. "I actually gave birth to our first child just two days before the Sokovia mess."

His eyes might as well have exploded out of his head with how wide they became. "You already have a child?"

I nodded. "Yeah, a daughter. She'll be a year old next month. She's being looked after by my best friend while all this is going on." I sighed, running my hands over my face in exhaustion, before peering at him through my fingers. "You're not gonna let me go, are you?" Zemo considered this, and I slowly lowered my hands as hope flared in my chest. If he let me go, I could race back to Berlin and try to stop the Avengers from destroying one another. But why would he do that? I'd be getting in the way of the plans he'd been working so hard on. Before he could answer, I asked him, "What do you have?"

Zemo blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Whatever it is you're planning must have some big _thing_ involved. Nothing less would cause any of us to turn on one another. Maybe it's just me that feels this way, but we're more than just a team at this point. We're family." I narrowed my eyes at him. "So what do you have?"

Zemo eyed me, then with a slight smirk, he answered with a single sentence that caused dread to fill my gut. "December 16th 1991."

I shook my head. "Tony already knows," I said, though part of me feared that Bucky had never gotten around to telling him.

Zemo, unfortunately, seemed to pick up on my doubt. He smirked. "Does he?"

I pursed my lips. "He'd better, or I'm gonna be having a serious chat with my husband. I _told_ him to tell Tony what happened two years ago!" Then with an internal sigh I realised Bucky almost definitely hadn't said anything - shortly after I had that conversation with him was our dance night, followed by my capture and almost-death. He'd spent the better portion of a week believing me dead, and I honestly couldn't blame him for not thinking about this after that. I still wanted to clobber him over the head for it, though.

"You weren't there for that bit, were you?" he asked, drawing me from my thoughts. I sent him a puzzled look. "The other soldiers," he elaborated. "You're not mentioned anywhere."

I shook my head. "No, I was in cyrofreeze at the time. Bucky was always the better fighter, and from what I know of it, even he struggled to beat them sometimes. I would have been of no use to them."

Zemo stared at me for a long time, and then his eyes flickered down to my belly again, this time making no effort to hide it. There were another few seconds of silence. "I did not bring you here to kill you, or take you prisoner," he said at last. "I brought you here because, for the briefest moment, you reminded me of my wife." His eyes flickered back to mine. "During her pregnancy with my son, she would sometimes collapse just like you did. The doctors said she often wasn't eating enough to sustain them both." He frowned. "How long has it been since you've eaten?"

I opened my mouth to reply, then paused. I hadn't noticed I'd been skipping out on meals, but they were just never on my mind. I didn't _feel_ hungry, so I didn't eat. "The morning of Peggy's funeral," I said at last, part of me quivering at the very real danger I was putting my baby in. "Almost two days ago."

He sighed, getting up from his chair and the disappearing. I barely noticed, realising with a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach that I'd actually forgotten to care for myself, and by extension, care for my son. Bucky's son. I jumped, blinking in surprise when Zemo suddenly reappeared in front of me, holding a bowl of cold... something.

"Eat," he instructed firmly.

I slowly took the bowl, eyeing its contents and then tentatively taking a bite, before asking, "Why are you helping me if you want the Avengers dead?"

"I do not want _you_ dead," he told me as I continued to eat. I wasn't sure what he'd given me, but whatever it was, it was _good_ and I was suddenly _starving_. "You and your husband are staying away from this. Despite being at Sokovia, I believe you are trying to avoid the world of guns and death. And besides... It wasn't you who created the monster that turned my country into an asteroid."

I scoffed. "You really think Bucky and I are just gonna let you get away with tearing our friends apart? Whether you think we're Avengers or not, those guys are still people we would happily die to protect."

He hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps I believe you could be... persuaded." It wouldn't take a genius to notice just how thin the ice this man was walking on truly was, but he was either oblivious or simply content to ignore how suddenly murderous my stare had become. "After all, it's not just you that is in danger right now." Then his eyes flickered to finally meet mine, and something like a smirk touched his lips for a moment. Perhaps someone less trained and less observant would have missed it, but to me it might as well have been a neon flashing sign.

My self-control was not something I prided myself in, mainly because I knew I had a bad habit of lashing out when I became overly emotional, but I strangely managed to keep myself in check. In fact, I appeared outwardly calm as I tilted my head to the side. "There are nineteen ways I could kill you right now with just my hands, and, military training or not, there's nothing you could do to stop me."

"But would you?" he challenged. "Would you kill a man with your bare hands?"

I leaned forward in my chair, keeping my voice perfectly flat as I answered honestly, "If it meant keeping my family out of danger, I wouldn't hesitate."

Something about my response seemed to please him. "I see what you mean," he muttered after a while. I blinked slowly. "You will _always_ be a killer."

I chuckled. "Is that supposed to disgust me? I came to terms with that about eighty years ago."

"Can I ask you something?" There was a distinct gleam in his eyes that I didn't trust, and it was then that I noticed my stomach begin to roll slightly. "What was the age of the youngest person you ever killed?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I'm simply curious to see if I will be able to get you to make a new record." Zemo grinned slightly, standing up and heading to the back of the room. I followed him closely with my eyes, trying to ignore the churning in my stomach, but it wasn't easy when Junior started to wriggle, as if feeling my discomfort as well. "There are exceptions, of course," he said over his shoulder, digging through a cabinet and then apparently finding what he was looking for, pulling back just enough to shut the cupboard without giving me so much as a glimpse of what he held. He turned to back to me, still hiding the mysterious thing he had picked up. "There are exceptions," he repeated, "but when one looks for the Winter Solider, they will often also come across Silverthorn, and vice versa. So when I looked for files on the Winter Soldier, and learnt of the words used to control him, imagine my delight when I found a little black book alongside the red one."

My whole body froze as I lowered my eyes to the books he was now proudly displaying in front of me. The red one with the black star was unfamiliar, but it would be impossible not to recognise. But it was the black one with the silver rose engraved onto the front that held my gaze. The delicate petals shimmered in the low light, seemingly laughing at me, taking delight in my sudden fear. The beautiful flower hiding an array of sharp thorns; this was my representation. Bucky's displayed the birthplace of the Winter Soldier, while mine was merely a symbol of Silverthorn. Nothing unique, nothing to lay claim to me, and yet wholly accurate to what they had trained me to be.

"At first I considered leaving it," Zemo said, fully aware he had my complete attention even if my eyes never strayed from the book as he circled around my chair and sat back opposite me, "but I knew this was something I could not leave behind. Even if I did not use it, it would do me no favours for someone else to come across it. So I took it, and now here we are, and I have every opportunity to use it."

"Except you haven't tied me down, and you have no way of stopping me from attacking you the moment the first word escapes from your lips," I hissed in return, fingers gripping the arm of the chair. I wanted to run, to flee, and I wanted to rip the book from his hands, but something... something profound, something buried deep inside me, something long forgotten... Whatever it was, it kept me rooted to my seat, unable to move. Every muscle, every joint, every cell in body was locked in place, as if in anticipation of what I suddenly had no power to stop.

Zemo seemed to detect this. "You may have been born in England, you may live in America, you may have visited another realm, but this will always be a part of you. Your roots will always be so very _controllable_."

"Stop," I spat out as he casually let the book fall open. I felt a strain in my muscles as I tried to drag up the will to move, but I was as still as ever. I hoped that - like last time - hearing the words would snap me out of it, because if the mere sight of that little black book could do this to me, I could only pray over and over that my conscience and my desire to just _get away_ would break through.

Zemo glanced up me, eyeing me again and having no shame in openly staring at my enlarged belly. "I wasn't lying when I said you reminded me of my wife," he said softly. "Neither was I lying when I said I didn't want you dead. But you are not entirely innocent, and in the end, it won't be me who decides whether you live or die. Which means, of course, potential death for the little one as well. I wish it weren't so, but some sacrifices must be made." And then his eyes darted down again, and my breath all but froze when that first word left his lips, followed swiftly by the other nine. " _B_ _espokoynyy. O_ _dinnadtsat. U_ _ragan. P_ _oddelyvat. C_ _hetyre. N_ _evezhestvennyy. V_ _ossoyedineniye. D_ _va. B_ _olyashchiy. C_ _hernyy vsadnik_."

My prayers went unanswered.


	26. 26 - This Is Who She Was Raving About?

**A/N: This one is a little shorter than the last couple have been, but I hope you don't mind. Anyway, that's all I have to say, so let's just get on with this :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: If it makes you feel any better, a lot of people love and hate me at the same time. I'm like Marmite... :P As for the other thing... 'Terrified' is the answer. You should be terrified. :D**

* * *

 **26 - This Is Who She Was Raving About?**

Bucky couldn't help but find amusement in the Beetle Steve had picked for them, due to it's 'low profile' nature. Thanks in part to Daphne's admirable knowledge of modern cars, he himself knew a fair amount about them too, and he knew there were far better cars to choose if one wanted to avoid being seen. But he said nothing, and instead crammed himself into the space in the back of the Beetle while Sam and Steve took the front seats.

Still, it took everything he had within him not to jump from the vehicle and find the fastest thing around him, hijack it and then floor it to... wherever the hell Daphne had been taken. That was the only thing that kept him in place - he didn't know where she was, and right now, the fastest way to get to her was by staying with the Avengers. His memory of the Siberian facility was rudimentary at best, and he didn't really have the skills to work the necessary technology that would get him there. So with gritted teeth he remained silent and let the others do what needed to be done, while hanging onto to the ever-thinning thread that was his patience.

After a brief stop in some abandoned parking lot to pick up their uniforms, including Steve's shield and Sam's wings - during which Bucky was understandably vacant, his mind on his missing wife - Steve drove them to an airport somewhere around a hundred miles from Berlin.

It was a bit of a shock to see Clint waiting for them next to a white van, though Wanda's appearance was a little less surprising. With the knowledge that Tony had apparently put her under house arrest (without telling her, of course), the fact she'd left regardless of this was almost expected at this point.

"Cap," Clint greeted as he and Sam stepped forward. Bucky was about to move as well, but instead decided to stay by the car, eyes scanning the area below. Part of him - a very tiny part, admittedly - was hoping he'd see Daphne waltzing across the closest runway, but he wasn't especially downtrodden when he didn't see her. Holding back a frustrated and impatient sigh, he let his ears tune in on the conversation going on a few metres away.

"You know I wouldn't have called If I had any other choice," Steve said to Clint.

Clint shrugged. "Honestly, you're doing me a favour. Besides... I'm on your team."

Steve nodded, then turned to Wanda with a smile. "Thanks for having my back."

Wanda smirked slightly, her eyes flickering to the archer beside her. "It was time to get off my ass."

"How's our new recruit?" Steve asked.

Clint grinned slightly, stepping back to the van. "He's ready to go," he said. He wrenched the van's side door open, startling the man inside into the waking world. "You might have to get some coffee in him, but... he should be good."

With a groan, the man stumbled out of the van. "What time zone is this?" he asked no one in particular, before his eyes landed on Steve and widened almost comically. "Captain America!"

Bucky could almost _feel_ Steve's exasperation and reluctant acceptance of what was inevitably about to happen. "Mr Lang," he greeted. The familiarity of the name had Bucky turning his head fully towards the man.

That man - Scott Lang, if Bucky remembered correctly from Daphne's previously rather fervent ramblings about him - accepted Steve's hand, shaking it with vigorous enthusiasm. "It's an honour," he said, grinning, before his eyes glanced down to their still shaking hands. "I'm shaking your hand too long." He pulled away, still grinning. "Wow. This is awesome! Captain America!" He turned behind him and pointed at Wanda. "I know you too, you're great." Scott blew out a long breath. "Look, I just wanted to say; I know you know a lot of super people, so... Thinks for thanking of me." Bucky blinked, finding it more difficult to hold back his astonishment over just how much of a verbal klutz this man appeared to be. Honestly, right now he wasn't seeing what was so great about this guy, though he trusted Daphne's judgement and so knew there had to be _something._ Scott glanced at Sam and grinned crookedly. "Hey, man."

Sam replied evenly with, "What's up, tic-tac?"

"Good to see you. Look what happened last time was-"

"It was a great audition," Sam cut in, "but it'll never happen again."

Steve turned everything back on topic. "Did he tell you what we're up against?"

"Something about some... psycho assassins?"

Steve nodded. "And that's just the start," he muttered, before shaking his head. "Look, we're outside of the law on this one. So if you come with us you're a wanted man."

Scott shrugged. "Yeah, well... What else is new?"

Steve glanced over at Bucky and, no doubt noticing the tension in his frame, said seriously, "We should get going."

"I've got a chopper lined up for us on the runway," Clint said, and the moment everyone shifted to move, a voice echoed over the surrounding area.

Bucky sighed as he translated for them. "They're evacuating the airport."

"Stark," Steve realising grimly.

Scott's brows pinched. "Stark?"

Steve nodded, then let his eyes rake over everyone again. "Suit up." Bucky felt his left hand clench at the thought of being delayed even more. It took conscious effort for him to stop himself pummelling a hole into the roof of the car they'd stolen. He barely even looked up when Steve approached the car and pulled open the trunk, taking out their uniforms and dumping them on the roof of the car. Steve glanced at Bucky. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

Bucky stared at him for a moment, contemplating just flat out lying to the man, but he knew Steve would see right through him. And anyway, dignity be damned, he needed someone to support him until he got Daphne back, so they could stop him before he went and did something stupid. At length, Bucky let a long breath whistle out between his parted lips. "No," he said simply.

Steve placed a grounding hand on Bucky's left shoulder, completely unbothered by the metal underneath his sleeve. "We'll get her back, I promise," Steve told him firmly.

Bucky frowned. "But if Stark's here to arrest us-"

"If he's here for that, then chances are he doesn't know she was taken. I'd bet all the money I have that he thinks she's here with us." The conviction in Steve's eyes allowed Bucky's frantic thoughts to settle slightly. Bucky knew the importance of following the rules of the Accords now Tony had officially signed them, but he also knew that the billionaire had a strange sibling-like relationship with his wife (that, honestly, he still couldn't quite wrap his head around). Maybe Stark could be persuaded to ignore his orders for just a few hours to help them get Daphne back. Bucky pursed his lips. He could only hope it would be that easy. Steve seemed to notice the turmoil still raging in Bucky's head, and so with surprising firmness he picked up Bucky's uniform and shoved it against his chest. "Suit up," he repeated firmly, giving his best friend a half-smile. "The quicker we leave this airport, the sooner we can get her back."

Holding back a sigh, Bucky took the clothes and then turned to change into them, though not before meeting the furrowed-browed look on their newest member's face. Expecting to see him squirm at being caught staring, Bucky was caught off guard when the man instead started walking towards him.

"Hey, where's your partner?"

Bucky floundered for a moment, having forgotten just how public his partnership with Daphne was, though he knew most people still assumed they were just _partners_. They had a whole other life that most people didn't know about, and he was grateful for that. Still, for a fraction of a second, he panicked and thought that this guy knew everything. Then logic took over, and he let himself relax just a little. "She was taken," he replied shortly, unabashedly yanking his hoodie zip down and shrugging it off, before pulling his shirt over his head.

Scott frowned. "Taken? By the same guy whose tryin'a set those assassins loose?" Bucky clenched his jaw, but nodded. He then pulled on his under-armour and tugged his tactical jacket over the top. He had been perfectly aware of Scott's eyes gluing themselves to his metal arm, but at this point he was beyond caring. Scott let out a low whistle after seemingly breaking himself from a stupor. "That's tough, man. Aren't you two a sort of... thing?"

Bucky let out a wry chuckle, and the action astounded even him. There was a hollowness to the sound though, one that couldn't be hidden. "You could say that," he mumbled, starting to unbutton his pants and holding back another small smirk when Scott turned his head slightly. "We got married a year and a half ago."

Scott's head whipped his way so fast Bucky wondered if the guy had given himself whiplash. "You guys are married? I mean, I get that you've known each other forever, but I just never pegged either of you as the 'settling down' sort."

"That's a common belief," Sam said, wings by his side but otherwise ready to go. "But those two are actually _really_ domesticated. They've got a farm outside New York, got a dog, a few horses, an adorable little girl and another kid on the way."

Scott's eyes more or less popped out of his head. "Wait, you guys have kids?"

Bucky shrugged, understanding his shock but not really caring enough to find amusement in it, like he normally would. He yanked on his combat boots and quickly fastened them, before straightening up again. "Believe it or not," Bucky said at last, "we're trying to ease our way out of this stuff. Unfortunately I think we might have picked the wrong time to do so."

"What, you mean with everything turning to shit?" Scott chuckled. "Yeah, maybe."

Bucky eyed him, then let a tiny smirk cross his lips. "Man, you have _no_ idea." Then with a hearty clap on the shoulder that may have almost sent the rather notorious 'Ant-man' sprawling onto the ground, Bucky stepped past him and Sam and headed towards Wanda, who was playing with the sleeve of her jacket. She smiled when he approached. "Any sign of Pietro?"

Wanda sighed, shaking her head. "I asked him to come, but he's with S.H.I.E.L.D. in Sokovia, trying to dig up some more on the bomber. He said he'd talk to the team, but I don't think he expects to be able to make it on time." She narrowed her eyes at him, and Bucky almost rolled his eyes when the expected question left her lips. "How are you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected," he replied, trying to simmer down some of his irritation. It wasn't her fault she was concerned for him, but if too many more people asked him if he was okay he'd start ripping his hair out. And maybe theirs too. "I'm just ready for this all to be over, to be honest."

Wanda nodded in understanding. "I know." She paused for a moment, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. Bucky hesitated no longer than the half-second it took for him to get over his shock, before he circled is arms around her in return and held her to him. Pietro and Wanda were too old to really be considered his kids, but there was a part of him that flared whenever he noticed they were hurt, or in danger. He treated them like he remembered treating Rebecca, with the same desire to keep them safe, and sometimes it wasn't easy letting them go off and do dangerous things. He let out a silent, mental laugh when he realised these thoughts meant that Daphne was seriously rubbing off on him now. He was drawn from his mind by Wanda's quiet, muffled voice. "Do you think she's okay?"

Bucky let out a long breath, wincing slightly, then admitting in a quiet voice, "Honestly? No. I think she's in some deep shit. If she was able to get captured, then that bastard could do whatever he liked to her. He was able to find the book that had my command words, it's not too far of a leap to assume he's got hers too. I just want to know why she was taken."

"Extra incentive to follow him?" Wanda suggested, still not moving or letting go. Bucky didn't feel particularly inclined to either, though a significant part of him was still itching to _finally_ get moving. "To scare you?"

Bucky shrugged. "In the end, I suppose it doesn't matter. The result will be the same either way."

Wanda chuckled, pulling back slowly and then smiling up at him. It wasn't quite as wide as the ones she usually gave, but it was better than he could achieve right now. "He should be terrified," she noted, her smile morphing into a cheeky grin that he couldn't help but return.

"If he isn't, there's something seriously wrong with that man," he retorted, giving her a brief side-squeeze before the two of them turned to the rest of the group. Steve was just pulling on his helmet and Clint was thumbing through his large supply of arrows, and then suddenly everything came to a grinding halt.

Steve looked up and around, and upon realising they were all done, his eyes met Bucky's determined gaze and gave a nod. "Let's get this over with."


	27. 27 - The 'Thing'

**A/N: SO I have an announcement to make. This story has two chapters left (including this one) and then an epilogue. And then that's it. I'm gonna have to stop for a while in order for the next relevant movie to be released. It has been an epic journey with you guys, and I appreciate everyone who's stuck with me this long. I don't know what'll happen next, but, as of now, I'll have to start planning my next fic. Thanks again to everyone, and... yeah. I'll post the final chapter and the epilogue together, most likely, within the next few days. So, see you then.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: That would be hilarious, and no, you didn't take it too far. Ish. Maybe... :)**

* * *

 **27 - The 'Thing'**

Bucky and Sam watched with carefully schooled expressions as Steve jogged out across the airport alone, both of them unsurprised when a shock grenade shorted out the helicopter Steve was running towards. Despite the fact he considered himself to be friends with Stark, Bucky couldn't stop himself tensing when he and Rhodes dropped out of the sky, both decked out in their weaponised metal suits.

Through the comms Bucky heard Steve talking to Tony, though since he only heard Steve's half of the conversation, he still wasn't completely sure what was going on. It took all of his willpower to remain still when the Black Panther, of all people, stepped in behind Stark, followed shortly after by Natasha. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next, though; watching someone dressed in a red and blue suit spring over Steve's head and use some kind of webbing to simultaneously rip the shield from Steve's hands and then bind said hands together.

"What the hell?" he muttered.

Sam huffed beside him, grumbling, "Everyone's got a gimmick these day."

"Found the jet yet?" Bucky asked, a hint of impatience making its way into his voice.

He was slightly grateful that Sam wasn't easily annoyed, or at least seemed to understand enough to hold back his irritation. Instead, the man replied evenly, "Not yet, but I've only scanned about half the site. Give me a minute." Bucky nodded, turning his eyes back to the ground and watching everything play out in front of his eyes. Nothing seemed to have happened to cause alarm just yet, but he knew in situations like these, that could change any second. "I find the quinjet," Sam suddenly told everyone, and Bucky let out an almost silent sigh of relief. "Hangar five, on the north runway."

" _Thanks, Sam,_ " Steve said in reply, and then proceeded to do something no one expected him to - he reached up to his ear and turned off his comm.

"Steve?!" Sam shouted, in clear disbelief that Steve would do that, but Bucky wasn't. He'd known Steve long enough to get used to his moments of utter stupidity and recklessness. Sam cursed under his breath and then disappeared from Bucky's side, jogging down the closest staircase to get down to Steve's side. He wasn't sure whether Sam's plan was to act as a go-between for Steve and the rest of the team, so they could still hear him, or whether he was simply going down there to offer extra support, but Bucky kept himself in place.

He only had to wait a few more seconds before he could hear Steve's voice through Sam's earbud, and what he heard in equal parts surprised him and didn't at the same time. "- _we've got to go, Tony. The thing is, it's not just them. The doctor-_ " Bucky didn't hear what Stark said in reply, but he didn't need to. Tony was many things, but patient wasn't one of them, and Steve had a habit of taking a long time to get to the point. Still, the man was persistent. " _Tony, stop! Listen for once._ " There was a brief pause, and Bucky found himself holding his breath in anticipation. " _The doctor took Daphne_." Stark's reaction was instant. Even from this distance Bucky could detect the man's shock, watched as he took a step back in an effort of steady himself. " _We don't know why, but it doesn't matter. We're going to get her. We could use your help. You say you've got twelve more hours to get us to Ross - that gives us plenty of time to get to Siberia, find Daphne, take out this guy, and then come back. We can discuss what to do about the arrest later. For now, all I ask is that you put it aside for a moment and just_ help us _, Tony_."

Whatever Tony's response would have been, he was unable to express it. At that moment, the sounds of engines drew closer, and Bucky lifted his gaze to the sky just as a large S.H.I.E.L.D. plane came to hover over the airport. The beast of a machine was far too big to land, but apparently that wasn't the plan. The rear ramp was lowered, and a single figure was dropped from the plane onto the top of the building directly opposite Bucky's. The following trail of pale blue light meant that no guesses were necessary to work out just who their newest visitor was.

Deciding he'd stayed hidden long enough, Bucky turned away from the large window in front of him and quickly descended to the ground level, coming to a stop when he was finally at Steve's side. Pietro appeared a fraction of a second later, and the two men gave each other quick once-overs to ensure the other was unhurt, before turning back to their opposition.

Tony let out a sigh. "Well, this is turning out to be quite the party," he grumbled. "Oh, Jesus!" Bucky smirked in amusement when Scott suddenly appeared, enlarging himself to human size and ripping Steve's shield out of the stranger's hands.

"I believe this is yours, Captain America," he announced grandly, passing the shield back to its rightful owner.

Movement in the corner of his eyes caused Bucky to turn his head slightly, and he saw Clint and Wanda jogging up to them, Clint with his bow held loosely in hand. "See this?" Clint grumbled in exasperation. "This is what a botched plan looks like."

"Well, if worse comes to worst," Bucky pointed out, "we appear to have a backup." He pointed up at the plane still hovering above them, blasting a surprisingly small amount of wind downward for a vehicle that massive.

Tony glanced at them all, then at his team. Natasha was pursing her lips, though none of the others' expressions could be seen past their masks. Bucky wasn't surprised in the slightest when Vision drifted towards them barely a moment later, his face unreadable. The stranger, the one decked in blue and red, glanced between the two groups, and while his face was invisible it was easy to detect just how confused he was.

"Mr Stark, what's going on?"

Bucky's eyes widened as he registered the very young voice that came from the suit, and then a potent anger started spreading within him. "You brought a _kid_ into this?!" he asked, and almost everyone seemed shocked to hear the absolute fury in his voice.

"How, now listen-"

"Don't," he snapped, narrowing his eyes at Stark. "Just don't. Don't try to worm your way out of this, because that is a low blow even for you, Stark."

Tony frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"This is someone's son, Tony!" Bucky snapped back. "And he's - what? - fifteen? Sixteen? You may not be a parent, but I'll tell you now if you ever try to drag one of my kids into something like this at that age then you're not gonna walk away without permanent damage. Have you got that?!"

Tony blinked a few times, then let out a long, drawn-out 'oh'. He glanced back at Natasha, and then pointed at the boy. "I think he's the 'thing'."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You knew that the moment you came up with the idea to contact him," she retorted.

"I'm sorry," Sam piped up, "I'm just putting it out there because I know everything's thinkin' it - what the hell is the 'thing'."

Pietro was the one to answer. "Before Daphne left she told Tony not to do the 'thing'. She stated it very explicitly."

"Can someone please tell me who you're talking about?!"

Bucky let his lips quirk upward at the kid's exasperated voice. "Daphne's my wife," he supplied. "She's also a friend of everyone here." He glanced at Scott. "Almost." Then he turned back to find the kid's stance had become somewhat less tense. "She was kidnapped yesterday, in Berlin."

The boy looked around, then asked the question that Bucky wanted to ask himself. "So what the hell are we still doing here?"

"Waiting to see if we're gonna get stopped," Steve answered, and everyone turned their heads to Tony. Even Natasha seemed to be waiting for his word.

At length, the billionaire let out a long sigh. "Yeah, yeah, okay. But we have to be quick."

Bucky pointed at the kid. "He stays."

"Hey, wait, what-?"

"Bucky's right," Steve cut in. "You shouldn't be a part of this, and not just because you're so young."

Natasha smirked. "Not to mention Daphne would skin us all alive if we let you come with us."

He sighed. "Yeah, fine. But I hope you guys have some way of getting me back home, cause otherwise I'm screwed."

Bucky glanced up at the S.H.I.E.L.D. plane. "I reckon we might."

* * *

After the kid - Peter, apparently - had been allowed into the giant plane, the rest of the group had quickly headed over to the quinjet and boarded, Natasha and Steve sliding into the piloting chairs and swiftly getting the jet into the air. The usually spacious plane felt suddenly quite a lot smaller with so many people inside, but Bucky was beyond caring at this point. He stood at the back of the jet, leaning against the wall, lost in thought.

In the end, he was confident Daphne would be okay. She was too well trained and had lived through far too much to die at the hands of the man they were chasing. But while she was under his control, he could ask her to do anything short of killing herself. There was no guarantee she would even be with him when they found her, and if that were the case he was sure he'd go mad with worry. The only way to break free of the conditioning words was to allow their minds to shut down - whether by force or through sleep. But they had been trained to go weeks without sleeping, and it was unlikely that Daphne would allow anyone to get close enough to her to cause enough damage to knock her out. That could mean weeks without her, weeks of her doing God only knows what, weeks where Vera wouldn't have her mother or brother, and he wouldn't have his wife or son.

"It's strange," Pietro muttered as he stopped beside Bucky, who blinked to clear his mind, and then turned his attention to the kid. "We can't really appreciate what she's changed over the years, because for us this is just how things are. But when you think about it, everything that has happened the past few days could have gone very differently."

"What do you mean?"

Pietro frowned. "Well, I wouldn't be here, for one. We never would have found out about the bomb before it went off, so people would have been killed. You probably wouldn't be here either, or at least not in this way - she seemed to suggest you'd have stayed hidden after the thing with the helicarriers, and so you would have been alone when the feds tried to arrest you. And everything that happened back at the airport would have been different - it was only the knowledge that Daphne was captured that caused the others to stop. Knowing that she's had this much impact on us even when she's not here; it's just... strange."

Bucky found himself humming thoughtfully. "Maybe," he said at last. "But I wouldn't want it to change."

Pietro chuckled. "Nah, but I think anyone in your position would say the same. You may be worried right now, but you have a wife, a daughter, and a son on the way. You've got a secure home, and a lot of friends, too. Considering the alternative is staying in hiding for two years, constantly having to look over your shoulder, I think we can both agree anyone would rather take this reality over the other."

Bucky stared at him, then grunted slightly. "Thank you."

Pietro blinked, then frowned. "What for?"

"For not asking if I'm okay."

Chuckling, Pietro shook his head. "Even if I didn't figure out it'd happened a thousand times already, I still wouldn't have done it. That was always Wanda's thing."

Bucky grinned crooked. "Oh yeah? And what was yours?"

"Ignoring the elephant in the room, mostly." Pietro shrugged. "Not a good habit to get into, I admit, but we all know I prefer to just keep moving forward."

"And I bet it has nothing to do with your crazy speed," came the drawled reply.

Pietro snorted. "On the contrary, I bet that's why I got these specific powers in the first place."

Bucky chuckled alongside him, but then his face fell slightly and he drew in a long, slow breath. "Tell me honestly," he started, voice quiet, "do you think he'll have done something to hurt her?"

Pietro considered for a moment, a thoughtfully crease between his brows, before he shook his head. "No, I don't think so. From what we've gathered about him, he was a parent too. He had a wife and a son, both of whom died in Sokovia. He may not like her, or any of the rest of us, but I don't think he'd go so far as to hurt her when she's pregnant. If his family is his motivation, then he'll be thinking about them constantly. I bet he'd start to see bits of his wife in her, and that will keep him from hurting her."

Bucky exhaled sharply. "I hope you're right."

Pietro slapped him on the shoulder. "We'll find her," he promised firmly. "This'll all be over soon, and then you can go back to your lives. Maybe even make a break from this chaos for good this time."

Bucky chuckled dryly. "Yeah, I don't get the feeling that's gonna happen very soon. We're too involved at this point. But it's a nice thought nonetheless, so thanks."

Pietro smiled crookedly and nodded. "Any time, buddy. Any time."


	28. 28 - Ultimatum

**A/N: Sooooo... You know when I said last chapter this is the last full length chapter? I lied. There's another one. And actually the prologue is the same length as a proper chapter too. I just had so much fun writing these last few bits that I just wrote, and wrote, and wrote. So I just need to check them over another eight times, and then I'll post those last chapters too. For now, enjoy this one!**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: 'If he stands up, we'll all stand up; it'll be anarchy!' Haha, sorry, couldn't resist. And yeah, once there's a bit more stuff in the marvel universe that they can be integrated into, I'll get right to work ;)**

* * *

 **28 - Ultimatum**

Bucky gave Natasha a wordless nod as she pulled open a cart full of weapons, pulled out an assault rifle, and then pressed it into his hands. She gave a grim smile in return, then pulled out two pistols and tucked them into her belt.

They had landed a few minutes ago, and everyone was making a few last-minute preparations for whatever the hell it was they were to face next. Bucky stood by the ramp as he waited for it to open, and Steve joined him a moment later, sans helmet.

"You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?" Steve asked.

Bucky felt his lips quirk up at the sides. "Was that the time you used our train money to buy hotdogs?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "You blew three bucks trying to win a stuffed bear for a redhead."

"What was her name again?"

"Delores." Steve smiled fondly, looking down at his feet. "You called her Dot."

Bucky shook his head. "Man, she's gotta be a hundred years old by now."

Steve smacked a hand down on his shoulder, muttering, "So are we, pal." Then he sobered as the ramp lowered, and he turned back to the rest of the group, who were queued up behind them. "He can't have been here longer than a few hours," he announced.

"That's long enough to wake them up," Bucky replied stonily, staring out at the vast, white expanse before his eyes.

Steve nodded. "I know we want to get this done as quickly as possible," here, he glanced pointedly at Bucky, who simply arched an eyebrow in response, "but we should stay together as much as we can. None of us know what we're going to face here. We need to make sure we're as safe as possible. Our primary focus should be the other soldiers - making sure none of them escape, so they're not a threat to anyone. We find Daphne and this Zemo guy after that. Okay?" Everyone nodded, even Bucky, though not everyone seemed all that happy about the order of their tasks.

The group left the plane, all armed and on edge as they approached the door into the old Hydra facility, which had been left open. Bucky winced as a flash of pain hit him, a phantom feeling from so many years ago. He rarely was allowed to roam free in any of the facilities he'd been held, but he'd always be sent out on a mission without escorts. He knew this room well.

The others followed him without a world as he headed towards what he remembered to be an elevator leading down into the depths of the facility. When pulling back the metal grating covering the elevator, he used far too much force, even causing a few of the thin metal bars to bend, but no one bothered to point it out.

"Okay," Tony said, "there's no way we're all fitting in there. Is there another way in?"

Bucky hesitated, furrowing his brows as he tried to find his way through his murky memories of this place. "Yeah," he said at last. "There's a large escape door at the top of the facility. It might not be open though, and you'll probably need to be able to fly to get down with any speed."

Tony nodded. "Okay. Rhodes, Sam, Vision, Wanda and I will head through that way. We'll meet you on the other side."

Steve narrowed his eyes at them in concern. "Be careful," he warned.

"Aye, aye, Cap'n." The aforementioned group left back the way they'd come, quickly sending themselves into the air to get through another way.

Steve turned back to Bucky, and the two shared a look that spoke more words than either could have possibly vocalised, before they stepped into the elevator. It was a struggle, but the rest of the group managed to fit in the elevator - once Scott had shrunk himself down - and then a tense silence overcame them all.

As the door opened and everyone began to step out, Bucky turned back to them with a frown on his face. "Look," he said lowly, "we don't know if Daphne's gonna be here but, if she is and she's still under the influence of those words, there's nothing anyone of us is gonna be able to do to get her to snap out of it without hurting her. The only way to do that is to knock her out." He paused again, eyes snapping up the next set of stairs when he heard a distant clang of metal, before shaking his head and getting back to the point. "She'll know her weaknesses, and she won't let anyone get without reach. If you don't know for sure that you can beat her, don't get anywhere near her. Don't let her get near you either. She won't kill you at first, unless those are her orders, but if you keep going back to try to take her down, she won't hesitate."

"I could do it," Pietro offered quietly, and then shifted on his feet. Bucky knew the idea of knocking Daphne unconscious made him uncomfortable, but he had to admit that the kid had the best chance of all of them to get to her undetected.

"Are you sure?" he asked, just in case.

Pietro sighed, then nodded. "She won't forgive herself if she hurts anyone," he muttered. "I'll do it."

With a firm nod, Bucky glanced at everyone once more, then lifted his gun and headed onwards, leading the way. He could feel his right arm trembling slightly as his anger and worry tore into him, but his left arm was perfectly still, and in a way it brought him a measure of comfort. He wasn't fond of the arm, but he had come to accept is as a part of him and he was grateful that he could use it now to keep Daphne safe, to defend her and their friends, to defend himself.

He paused by an open door, inhaled a grounding breath, and then darted around the door, gun raised, finger hovering above the trigger. The room was dark at first, but then the overhead lights slowly flickered on, and the six stasis chambers suddenly loomed over them. There were monitors in front of them, showing signs of life, but the strange thing was... there were none. All of them were dead. A whistle of pressurised air caught Bucky's attention, and he realised with a start that there were bullet holes in the glass of the chambers.

"There are only six," Scott noted. "I thought you said there were five of them, plus you and Sil- Daphne. Where's the other one?"

"She was never kept here," Bucky answered vacantly. "Daphne remained in cryo-freeze in Chechnya. They brought me here to train the other soldiers - her area of expertise involved more subtlety. I was always the better fighter."

They all flinched and spun to the right when they heard footsteps, only for them all to relax when the rest of the group entered. Tony glanced up at the chambers. "I thought these were supposed to be-"

"If it's any comfort," a new voice interrupted, and Bucky felt his skin crawl, "they died in their sleep." Bucky's eyes followed the direction of the voice, until he found the familiar face of his pseudo-shrink staring back at him behind a protective door. "Did you really think I wanted more of you?"

"Where is she?" Bucky growled.

Zemo blinked slowly at him, then glanced at the others. "I'm grateful to them though," he continued, ignoring Bucky's question. "They brought you all here." Steve growled and launched his shield at the door, but it simply bounced off, returning to Steve's hand. "Please, Captain; the Soviets built this place to withstand the launch blast of a hundred rockets."

"I'm betting I could beat that," Tony muttered.

Zemo chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure you could, given time. But then you'll never understand why you came."

"We know why we came," Natasha cut in, her voice like ice. "You took one of our own. Barnes asked you a question: where is she?"

Zemo smirked. "Safe. From this. From you." He glanced at Bucky, that smirk becoming something else; something darker, more sinister. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted her safe. Well, now she is."

Bucky snarled. "I want her _here_."

The smirk faded from Zemo's lips, and his face became like stone. "As you wish."

Bucky tensed when he heard the faint scrape of metal on metal, hardly wanting to see her now he knew she was here. But he did it, and part of him relaxed when he saw her. She was wearing a military jacket that was far too large for her, and underneath he saw a hint of a thick thermal shirt. She wore a pair of heavy, black combat boots, and a pair of loose military pants. The metal scraping sound turned out to be from the shashka she was holding in her right hand, the long blade dragging on the floor next to her. In her left hand sat a pistol, held loosely in her grip. Her eyes were blank as she stared at them, flicking her scrutinising gaze over each of them, weighing up the risks. Those eyes came to a dead halt when at last they landed on him, and then she narrowed her eyes. Her nostrils flared. Her stance became aggressive. He knew enough about her to know that she had tagged him as the biggest threat. But the thing that mattered most, the thing that made relief crawl into his stomach, was the fact she looked completely unharmed.

"Daph-"

"Don't," Natasha cut in sharply, and Bucky imagined Tony snapping his jaw shut loudly. He didn't turn his eyes away from Daphne, and she, in return, continued to meet his stare blankly. "Don't engage with her. Don't try anything."

"Then what are we going to do?"

"We've got it figured out," she assured him. "You just focus on getting Zemo."

Tony must have agreed, because he then asked, "What do you want?"

Zemo hummed thoughtfully. "That is a loaded question, Mr Stark. But first and foremost, I want my family back. The family who are dead because of your failures. So here I am, where I must settle for what is second to them."

"You want revenge," Steve muttered.

"I lost everyone that day. Now, so will you." A small huff escaped his lips. "An empire toppled by its enemies will rise again, but one that crumbles from within... That's dead. Forever."

The sound of something shifting caused Bucky's body to twitch. He wanted to know what was going on behind him, but he felt that if he moved, Daphne would take advantage of that and attack him. Stark's voice was the only warning Bucky got before Daphne moved. "What is-?" Her left arm surged upwards, and while his body reacted instinctively, he wasn't quick enough. Three bullets were fired out of her gun. There was a harsh clang of metal, followed by a fizzling sparking sound, and then silence overcame them again. Bucky eyed his wife carefully as she lowered her arm, her eyes narrowed at someone over his shoulder.

He paused for a moment, then straightened, trying something he doubted would work, but at this point he knew there weren't many other options. " _Mission objective._ " Her eyes flew to his, a slight twitch of confusion on her face as she registered the information he'd ordered from her. She was more likely to reply if he spoke in Russian - it was the language her mind had been programmed to trust most, to obey.

After a few tense seconds, something about her demeanour shifted. Her approach to him became dramatically less hostile, and she shifted her body slightly to take on more of a resting stance. " _Shoot anything that moves with aggression._ "

Bucky raised an eyebrow. That... wasn't what he'd expected. Whatever Zemo had planned was now compromised, because Bucky knew he hadn't plan for Daphne to react before the Avengers reacted to... whatever the hell it was he'd planned. Deciding to push his luck a little more, Bucky took a slow step forward. Daphne tensed, but didn't move to attack him. Her grey-green eyes remained glued to him. " _What is his plan?_ "

Daphne's lip curled over the top of her lip. " _Classified._ "

Bucky made sure to keep his face blank, though he allowed his eyes to darken slightly. " _What is his plan?_ " he repeated, with more force to his voice now.

Daphne's brows pinched as her confusion mounted. They were both trained to have only one person from whom they took orders, and since she'd already received her orders from Zemo, every instinct would have been screaming at her that something was wrong. But equally, Zemo wasn't Russian, he didn't speak Russian, and she didn't know him. Maybe a flash of recognition somewhere deep inside her would sway her over to him. Bucky chanced another two steps forward, putting him within three metres of her. After a few more moments of thought, her eyes shifted to the protected door behind which Zemo was hiding, then back to Bucky. Her lips parted, and Bucky held his breath. " _December 16th 1991._ "

For a split-second, Bucky was equally as confused as she had just been. But then he remembered who was stood behind him, who she'd just fired at, and everything slotted into place. Bucky winced. He should have known better than to allow himself to forget about Daphne's warning, should have kept his promise to her and found the time to tell Stark about his parents. But he hadn't, and now it was a mistake he had a feeling he was going to sorely regret. With Daphne now seemingly much less confrontational, he risked looking behind him.

Half of the Avengers were staring at him, while the rest were staring at Tony, who in turn had his eyes fixed on the screen that had been raised. He couldn't see the image on the other side, but the tension on Stark's face said a lot. After a moment, the billionaire swallowed and met his gaze. Once more, silence reigned.

Then Stark lifted a finger and pointed at the screen. "I don't think this works anymore."

Bewilderment crossed Bucky's features, and he found himself stepping forward towards the man before he could decide otherwise. He slowed down when he noticed Stark's wariness of him, but ignored it for now. His eyebrows raked up when he saw the screen. It was blank, with three bullet holes dotted across the glass. He glanced up at Daphne, who was still stationary and staring at him, as if expecting orders.

Bracing himself for what he was about to do, Bucky looked over to the left and met Pietro's eyes, before giving a firm nod. Pietro sighed visibly, looked over at Daphne, and then disappeared in a trail of blue light. Bucky only had time to register the genuine shock that flickered across Daphne's face before she slumped forward into Pietro's waiting arms, out cold.

Bucky turned away from his friends and stepped forward, towards Zemo. There was a cold hatred in the man's eyes that was reflected tenfold in Bucky's. "So this was your plan," Bucky murmured, so only Zemo could hear him. He worked his jaw. "To use my past against me."

"You act like a hero, but you are hardly innocent," Zemo bit out, nostrils flaring.

Bucky smirked. "I know. Maybe that's the point. We all have a reason to fight. For some of us it's because it's the right thing to do, but for most, it's to find redemption. But maybe that's not such a bad thing. You want to tear us apart to avenge your family. I understand that - hell, I'd do it myself - but that doesn't mean you get away with it."

With that Bucky stepped back, drawing back his metal arm and slamming it into the wall beside the door. The thin layer of cement crumbled under the force of his punch, and a yell of pain shot from his mouth as his fist broke the circuitry running through the whole facility, the electricity coursing along the length of the metal and into his body. It was worth it though, because with the last of his strength he was able to watch as horror filled Zemo's eyes before he was shut inside his little refuge. The only way out was through the back, and there he would be found, and arrested. Bucky felt his body collapse as the electricity surging through him finally became too much, and he slipped into unconsciousness with the comforting thought that he had his wife back safely, and all this could be put behind him.


	29. 29 - Reboot

**A/N: Okay, final full chapter. For real this time. XP I should post the epilogue straight after this, but it'll still take ten minutes or so to check over the grammar and stuff.**

 **I'd like to thank JLBriggs for favouriting, and AnsCat for following _and_ favouriting not just this but all of the series. I've been tracking your progress, so thank you for that. :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Blue Phoenix 217 (for chapter 27): If you look at the end of chapter 26, Bucky says to Wanda that he suspects Zemo has the book. They know nothing for certain, but he's pretty sure. Hopefully that clears things up for you.**

 **karina001: Nope, although I'll tell you now I skip over that bit a little bit in the epilogue. Sorry in advance if that was something you wanted to read.**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: As Daphne says in this chapter, he gets it from Steve. Totally convinced by that. :P**

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 **29 - Reboot**

I'm not quite sure how to describe it, but a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine escaped my lips as I came to. My head was pounding mercilessly, and I felt exhausted. Still, I forced my eyes to open, finding myself in a sterile, painfully white medical room. The bed I'd been draped across was hard and uncomfortable, so with careful movements I sat up, letting my legs hang over the edge of the bed for a second, before pushing myself on to my feet.

The sound of a door opening had me looking towards it, and I was surprised to see an unfamiliar woman walking in. Her dark skin seemed to gleam in a rather mesmerising way in the bright light, though maybe that was just a consequence of the battering my head had gone through.

"Where am I?" I asked her, clearing my throat afterwards, the words being difficult to push past the impressive dryness of my throat.

The doctor gave me a wary look as she pressed a small glass of water into my hand, as if expecting me to suddenly attack her, before picking up a clipboard in front of her. "You are lucky," she told me, and a frown broke out onto my face after I placed the now empty glass on the table beside me. She ignored it. "There are not many that King T'Chaka would allow to stay here to heal and rest."

I blinked a few times. "I'm in Wakanda?"

She looked up and nodded. "Yes, you are. As is your husband, and all your friends."

I pushed myself away from my bed, ignoring the wobbliness of my legs, and headed for the door. "I want to see them."

The doctor suddenly appeared in front of me, her grip surprisingly strong on my arms as she urged me to stop with a single sharp look. "You have been through a lot, Mrs Barnes. We have to make sure no serious damage was done to your son."

I shook my head. "Believe me," I murmured, meeting her strong gaze, "we'll want to prioritise this. Ten minutes?"

She pursed her lips, then sighed. "Your husband is being kept five door to the right down the hall. Room 77. But be warned - he might not be exactly as you remember him."

I shot her a perplexed look, but she had already stepped aside and was perusing my medical charts again. I opened the heavy wooden door and stepped out into the hallway. The white maternity shirt and trousers they'd given me to wear were surprisingly comfortable, and also blended in scarily well with the walls. I wasn't sure how long it'd been since I'd seen a place so pristinely white, but this was... impressive, for sure.

I jumped when a loud thump echoed down the corridor, and without thinking I walked swiftly towards Bucky's room, knowing instinctively that the noise had come from there. I pushed the door open without pausing first, and the sight before me had me freezing in place.

Bucky had Steve pinned to the wall, his right hand squeezing down on Steve's throat, while the blonde just winced and took it, refusing to fight back against his friend. Natasha was a few steps away, growling at Bucky in Russian, but he ignored her.

" _Shadow! Stop!_ " I barked, and something in him faltered. Bucky looked over his right shoulder, towards me, and upon seeing me stood there with my hand still resting idly on the door handle he let his arm drop and instead turned his body towards me. I almost swallowed my heart as it jumped into my throat. His left arm was missing, leaving barely more than a stump left. _What the hell happened?!_ I glanced up and met his eyes, which were dark and questioning. " _They are not our enemies. They are our friends and allies. Do not attack them._ "

He shifted slightly, uncertain. He looked over at Steve again, who was rubbing his throat and clearly trying to hide the hand-shaped mark Bucky had left there. " _He's my mission._ "

I shook my head, stepping away from the door and approaching him. His eyes skipped down to my stomach for a moment, a crease forming between his brows, before our eyes clashed again. " _Not anymore, he's not. We have no more missions._ " Bucky looked so confused, and so I reached up and placed my hand against his cheek. His beard was beginning to show properly now, more than just the usual five o'clock shadow he kept there. "What do you remember?" I whispered, making sure to switch back to English.

He opened his mouth, then paused, before shaking his head. "I don't... Nothing. Just you."

Letting out a long breath and trying to ignore the way my heart shrivelled a little in my chest, I nodded. "Okay. That's okay - you'll remember again soon."

Bucky's eyes skipped down to my stomach again. "What happened to you?"

I chuckled. "What does it look like, genius?"

Bucky's eyes skipped over my shoulder before he answered, both of us painfully aware of Natasha and Steve slipping out of the room, even if only one of us could see it happening. When the door snapped shut, Bucky's eyes dropped back to me. Slowly, he lifted his hand and placed it on my stomach, an automatic smile forming on his face as he left the life beneath his fingers. "Is it..." He swallowed, wetted his lips, then started again. "Is it mine?"

It was strange to see such a hopeful expression on the face of a man who could remember nothing but me, who probably couldn't even remember everything about us. He made it seem like a negative answer would crush him. So I ended his pain with a smile. "Yeah," I murmured. "He's yours."

A breathless smile, broad and genuine, stretched over his face, and suddenly his forehead was leaning against mine. "A son," he whispered, closing his eyes, that smile still there. "I have a son."

"You have a daughter, too," I told him quietly.

His eyes snapped open again, shock crossing his face. "I... do?"

I nodded. "Yeah, she's almost a year old. She's called-"

"Vera," he cut in, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Her name is Vera."

I nodded. "That's right."

Bucky pursed his lips together, looking at the floor, before meeting my eyes again. "Why can't I remember?" I couldn't recall the last time I'd heard his voice like this - so small and vulnerable.

It took all the will in my body to reply, knowing that by doing so I could only be letting him down. "I don't know," I admitted. "Something must have happened while I was unconscious, but... I don't know what it was." My eyes fell on the empty space where his arm should be. "I'd wager it had something to do with that, though."

He looked down at his missing limb, and then a sheepish expression crossed his features. He gave me a guilty grin. "I think I short-circuited it."

I gaped at him. "Wha...? How the hell did you manage that?!"

He shrugged his right shoulder. "Not really sure," he admitted. "I just remember feeling like I was in the chair again, except it was all over my body."

I hummed. "If you got electrocuted, it might explain why you don't remember anything." I shook my head. "I'll ask Steve later." A thoughtful expression fell into place. "Perhaps Wanda could help with returning your memories to you."

"Wanda?"

"Our pseudo-daughter... ish." I chuckled at the ridiculousness of my answer. "She has powers that affect the mind."

Bucky frowned. "I'm not really sure I want someone with power like that coming near me," he admitted.

I nodded in understanding. "I know. But it's either that or waiting for your memories to come back on their own. That could take months. Maybe even years."

Bucky pinched his lips, then let out a sigh and nodded. "Okay." Then he eyed me again. "You're sure she can be trusted?"

Despite everything, I couldn't help but laugh. "You might not remember it, but we've been through a lot with her. She's saved our lives as often as we've saved hers. If she can't be trusted with this, then no one can."

My answer seemed to satisfy him, because he nodded again. "Then let's go find her." After offering him my hand, I led him out of the room and just let my gut guide me. The layout of this facility rang a dim bell in the back of my mind, and I wondered briefly if, perhaps, this was the same place as the one I'd lived in for half a year so many decades ago.

Bucky and I quickly reached a recreation room, and inside were most of the Avengers. I could feel Bucky stiffen the moment we stepped inside, but I just gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he seemed to settle a little. "Wanda," I called, and the brunette woman turned her head towards us. She gave me a strained smile. "Do you think you could try to get a look inside his head and draw out his memories?"

Shock crossed her face, before she frowned and faced Bucky. "I can try," she told him. "But only if you're okay with it." Bucky and I shared another look, before he faced Wanda again and tilted his head. Wanda, having learnt to recognise some of his little gestures, got to her feet and then ushered him into a chair. Bucky sat down with a measure of uncertainty, but I kept my hand in his, and somehow I think he managed to draw strength from me that way. Wanda sat directly opposite him, then lifted her hands and let some of her red mist dance between her fingers. Bucky eyed it warily, but he didn't try to pull away. "This might feel strange," Wanda told him, "but it shouldn't hurt. Are you sure about this?"

Bucky seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then I noticed he'd shifted his head and was staring at my stomach again. He gritted his teeth and returned Wanda's look with one of determination. "Do it."

Wanda nodded, before pressing her fingertips against Bucky's temples. Almost instantly his body seized up, his grip on my hand becoming brutal. I watched with concern as his eyes were overcome by the red glow of Wanda's powers, his body twitching and flinching slightly, no doubt protesting against the invasion of his mind.

A hiss escaped my lips when somehow his grip on my hand became even tighter, and I could feel my bones creaking and groaning under the extreme pressure. I tried to ignore the pain shooting up my arm, but it wasn't easy. I didn't dare try to let go either, afraid that doing so would interrupt this process in some way and cause things to go wrong.

Trying to distract myself from the gradual pulverisation of my hand, I tilted my head to look at Steve. "So... what exactly happened with his arm?" I kept my voice low so Wanda wouldn't get distracted. It seemed my attempts were unnecessary, though - she was so absorbed in what she was doing it was like the rest of the world had been completely blocked out.

Steve sighed, perching on the arm of the chair closest to me. "After Pietro knocked you out, Bucky went over to Zemo and the two just... talked for a few seconds. And then Bucky punched a goddamn _wall_ to get to the circuitry hidden behind it. It worked, but his arm short-circuited as a result of the sudden surge of electricity going through it. According to Tony, Bucky should have been killed instantly. There was enough voltage going through him to kill anything. But, he got lucky I guess. Most of the energy stayed in his arm, and since his arm was touching the concrete, it all got dispersed through that." He shrugged. "Tony used a lot of words and terms I don't understand, so I couldn't tell you the science behind it. All I know is... the fact he's alive is nothing short of a miracle."

I couldn't stop myself rolling my eyes. "It's typical that the moment I'm not there to stop him he goes and does something so stupid." I pointed at Steve sternly and said, "He gets it from you, you know."

Steve chuckled. "I wouldn't be so sure."

I raised an eyebrow at him, wincing when Bucky flinched and twisted his hand, jerking mine to the side at the same time. I ignored it as much as I could. "So you're gonna tell me now that you _definitely_ fought back against Bucky when he was trying to choke you five minutes ago?"

Steve shook his head. "That's different."

"It was stupid, is what it was," I told him. "If you were any closer right now I'd hit you for being so bloody idiotic. As it is, you're too far away, so... rain check, I guess."

Chuckling, Steve shrugged. "Looking forward to it."

Both of us jumped out of our skin when Bucky and Wanda both let out simultaneous cries of pain, before their bodies collapsed. I barely managed to stop Bucky from falling out of his chair, and Steve managed to lunge forward quickly enough to keep Wanda from hitting the floor. I placed my free hand on Bucky's cheek, tapping his face lightly as his eyes fluttered. He let out a small groan, grimaced, and then finally let go of my hand. I bit back a sigh of relief.

"Bucky?" I asked quietly.

He blinked a few times, eyes skipping over to me. His brows furrowed, his mouth fell open, but then he snapped it shut and gave his head a vicious shake. He let out a another groan. "Remind me never to do that again," he grumbled.

A soft laugh escaped my lips, relief flooding over me. I pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, then turned to look at Wanda. A sheen of sweat had gathered on her forehead, and her face was deathly pale, but she was already pushing herself to her feet. "You okay?" I asked her.

She nodded jerkily, still having to hold on to Steve for support. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just... need to lie down for a while." With a small smile, Steve led Wanda over to the plush sofas a few feet away, and I turned back to Bucky.

His face had regained a little colour now, but he still seemed somewhat winded. "Did it work?" I asked him quietly.

He huffed. "Yeah, you could say that." He winced again. "I think I got a little more than I bargained for."

Frowning, I asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't just have all my memories back, but I have them back with painful clarity. I remember being Vera's age like it was yesterday. It's... _really_ weird."

Laughing softly and pressing another kiss to his head, I gave him a loose hug. "I'm sure it'll go back to normal before long." I smiled to myself when, in his apparent exhaustion, Bucky's head lulled forward until it was resting against my chest. He let out a long, low breath, apparently making himself comfortable when he ever-so-slightly pressed his face closer to my skin. "You know, if you want to sleep, I have a feeling the bed might be more comfortable."

"Debatable," he mumbled back, sounding like he was about to fall asleep then and there.

I poked his side lightly. "Don't make me carry you to bed, mister."

Moaning in protest, he pulled away from me and let out a long sigh. "You're no fun," he complained, pushing himself to his feet with a rough exhale.

"Hey, I never said you'd be going alone," I told him, and after shooting me a lazy grin, Bucky grabbed my hand and dragged me from the room.

I had no idea where he was leading me, and I had a feeling he didn't really know where we were going either, but neither of us cared. There was so much more to think about - the appointment with my doctor that I was probably late for by now, sorting things out with Secretary Ross, making sure my husband got his damn arm back, making sure my husband _finally_ told Tony about his parents - but I didn't care at that moment.

 _One thing at a time,_ I told myself. _Right now, I think we all deserve a little break._


	30. Epilogue

**A/N: So here's the 2,500 word epilogue. I honestly didn't intend for it to be even half as long as it is, but I can't bring myself to cut much out, so this is what you've got. Thank you SO much for all your support. Obviously this is where things will stop for now, but I should pick up this series again once a few more movies come out. Until then, adios. :)**

* * *

 **Epilogue**

Daphne let out a happy breath and she lounged on the swing bench sitting on the porch, a forgotten book open on her lap. The sun was brighter than it had been for a while, and she was watching Vera clumsily run through the recently-cut grass, Felix bounding alongside her with his tongue lolling out at the side. It was still a couple hours before noon, and yet the whole house was so _active_.

Daphne looked up at the sound of footsteps, and smiled when Steve sat himself down on the bench beside her. "Sorry we couldn't go to the beach this year," she told him.

Steve chuckled. "Honestly, it's probably a good thing. Everyone needs to be a bit more discrete these days. Besides," here, he shot her a sideways grin, "it's not like I'm missing out on anything."

Daphne supposed he had a point there. Upon being asked what he wanted to do for his birthday, Steve had just shrugged and said that, as long as everyone was there, they could have been doing anything and he'd be happy. Bucky had suggested they all visit the farm for a barbecue, an idea which everyone eagerly agreed to. Sam - who was a self-proclaimed barbecue God - was around the back of the house with everyone else, setting up the most impressive display of barbecued food Daphne had ever seen. Most of it would be cold when the time came to eat it, but no one was bothered by that. The only reason she was here and not there was because Vera had wandered to the front of the house with Felix, and she wanted to keep an eye on her daughter.

Daphne sent Steve a smile. "Well, Steve, it's still your birthday. If you have any sudden epiphanies, I'm sure we can figure something out."

Chuckling, Steve shook his head. "Nah, that's okay. This is perfect already. I'm just glad we're all still friends after the Accords and everything _else_ that happened back then." A frown flickered onto his face. "Daphne, are you alright? You've gone white as a sheet."

Daphne nodded slowly, letting out a controlled breath. "Yeah, I'm fine... ish. Would you, um... Would you mind getting Bucky for me?" Confused, Steve nodded and disappeared back into the house. Daphne let her head fall back against the wall of the house. "Fuck," she groaned, before awkwardly pushing herself to her feet. She turned to the front garden. "Vera, honey, come here." Vera's head turned her way, and without hesitation she started running towards her mother.

When she reached the steps leading up to the porch she got little bumps from Felix's head to help her up, which Daphne thought was absolutely adorable. She stopped beside Daphne, grinning. "Yes, mama?"

"Can you go out the back for me? Make sure you stay with your Aunt Nat, yeah?"

She seemed confused, but nodded. "Okay." And then she hobbled back inside. A second later, Daphne heard her say, "Hello, daddy!"

Bucky's warm voice resonated through her even from inside the house. "Hey, Princess. You going outside to see everyone?" Vera 'mhmm'ed, and then Daphne assumed she continued on, because Bucky was by her side a moment later. He smiled. "Hey, sweetheart. What did you need?"

She bit her bottom lip. "Okay, so, um... Don't panic, but... my water just broke."

His eyes widened for a second, but then he surprised her by exhaling slowly, and then nodding. "Okay," he said firmly. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well, I don't really fancy driving all the way to New York to find a hospital, so I guess we'll have to do it here." A low hiss escaped her lips when she felt the muscles in her lower stomach clenching, but managed to bottle up most of the pain. "Get Laura and Clint - since they've gone through this before a thousand times, they should be able to help. But tell no one else."

He blinked in confusion. "Why not?"

Smirking, she replied, "So it's a surprise, of course."

He chuckled. "It might be difficult hiding the hours of labour from them, but okay, if that's what you want. I'll go get the guys, you head on upstairs to our bedroom." He pressed a firm kiss to her forehead, then with a grin he disappeared through the house and out the back.

Daphne hobbled up the stairs, running into Pietro on the way. He grinned. "Hi, Daphne. Going to the bathroom again?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You're just lucky it's not something you'll ever have to experience."

He shrugged. "Certainly can't complain." He winked at her, then continued down the stairs while Daphne headed towards the master bedroom.

She was just lowering herself onto the bed and fighting her way through another contraction when Laura, Clint and Bucky entered, the latter pulling the door closed behind him. "Just so you know," Clint said, heading straight for the closet and then pulling out three clean bath towels, "your idea of keeping this a secret is insane. It'll never work."

Daphne shrugged. "Well, as long as you guys don't spend too long up here at once, no one should get suspicious."

"And your prolonged absence?"

"I'll just tell them she's having a nap," Bucky muttered with a shrug. "With how much she's been sleeping lately, it's definitely believable."

Laura smiled, taking Daphne's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "How close are the contractions?"

"At a guess... about four minutes apart."

She blinked, then nodded. "Okay, so this is gonna be a quick labour. Lucky you."

Daphne chuckled. "I'll admit something to you... I've actually been having contractions since about five this morning. I've only just mentioned it because my water's only just broken."

Bucky huffed, shaking his head. "Thanks for telling me," he grumbled, taking Laura's place by Daphne's side and perching on the edge of the bed.

"I wasn't about to ruin Steve's birthday plans with this. Hell no."

"Of course not," Bucky murmured affectionately. He took her hand in his and kissed her forehead tenderly. "You okay?" he asked.

Daphne nodded, beaming up at him. "Oh yeah. I'm great."

* * *

Over the next few hours, Bucky, Clint and Laura moved between Daphne's bedside and Steve's little party, keeping up appearances that nothing out of the ordinary was happening, and maintaining the story that Daphne was asleep. Thankfully, everyone bought it, and neither did they push too hard to 'wake her up' when lunchtime came. By the evening, though, they couldn't afford to leave Daphne's side. Her contractions were barely a minute apart at this point, and there was nothing anyone could do to hide the fact that those specific three kept disappearing upstairs. For Bucky, it made sense. Daphne was, after all, his wife. But the other two? The rest of the group were starting to think something was up, though they didn't think about it too much, too focused were they on celebrating Steve's birthday. Steve didn't seem to mind their disappearances either.

It was a miracle that no one figured it out.

Up in the master bedroom, Bucky was gently stroking Daphne's hair and letting his hand get crushed as she finally reached the end of her labour. She was sweating slightly, her cheeks flushed, and her face maintained a near-permanent grimace. Bucky kept muttering words of encouragement and support to her, the fact he was about to hold his second child for the first time not really registering in his mind. He was far too focused on helping Daphne through the birth.

"That's it," Laura said with a smile, having laid out the towels beneath Daphne's legs. Clint hovered nearby, keeping a steady eye on things, though at this point there wasn't much he could do to help. "Almost there," came the next gentle utterance. Laura suddenly broke out into a wide smile. "Okay," she announced. "One more push and you should be through."

Letting out a whimper - either from pain or utter relief, Bucky wasn't entirely sure - Daphne heaved once more, squeezing Bucky's fingers extra tight, and then slumped back against the bed, breathing heavily. Bucky kissed her forehead, then froze in absolute awe as he heard the first cry of his son. Laura and Clint swiftly got the baby cleaned and cut the cord, before wrapping him in a fresh white towel and handing him over to his wide-eyed parents.

Daphne cradled him close, cooing softly when she saw his little, pudgy face. "Oh, look at you," she whispered, beaming down at him. She glanced up at Bucky, who couldn't even tear his eyes away from his child to look at her. He hadn't been able to witness this moment with Vera, and it was something he was sorely disappointed by. When at last he blinked and shifted his eyes, there were tears threatening to fall. He smiled at her, pressing a firm kiss to her head, but saying nothing. No words were needed.

"We'll give you guys some space," Laura said quietly, grasping Clint's hand. "Come down when you're ready. And don't worry - we won't spoil it for you." Then the two disappeared, leaving Bucky and Daphne alone with their son.

Daphne gently brushed away a stray piece of fluff from the towel, and doing so made the baby stir. He let out a little gurgle, then his eyes sluggishly opened. Letting out a delighted half-laugh, half-sob, Daphne noted, "He's got your eyes."

Bucky smiled. "He's got your nose," he countered. "And your mouth."

"And your jawline," she added with a delighted grin. "God, he's beautiful."

"He is," Bucky agreed. "He's gonna break so many hearts when he's older."

Daphne chuckled. "What, like you, you mean?"

Shrugging, Bucky neither confirmed nor denied it. He gently ran his finger over his son's cheek, marvelling over how he turned his head towards it, before facing Daphne. "Are you up for showing him off?"

She chuckled. "Always," she agreed, and then handed him over to Bucky so she could comfortably climb out of bed. "But first," she said, "I'm gonna go and get changed." Bucky smiled and nodded, but then his attention was stolen by the tiny, _tiny_ being nestled in his arms. When Daphne was pregnant with Vera, he remembered being so worried that he'd accidentally hurt her with his metal arm, but Daphne had reminded him that he had perfect control over the arm, and that it could be as gentle as he wanted it to. No such fear existed now, and instead he simply let himself fall in love with his son a thousand times over as they stared at one another.

When Daphne came out wearing an oversized sweater and a pair of thick leggings, Bucky greeted her with a smile and a searing kiss, one she eagerly reciprocated. He then slid the baby back into her arms, before leading the way out into the hallway.

"So what do you think?" he asked. "Dramatic delay or just waltz in?"

"Definitely delay," she replied with a gleeful giggle.

Bucky grinned along with her, pulling her close and pecking her cheek, before he took the lead again and headed down the stairs. Daphne paused just outside the living room, and after sharing one last elated grin, Bucky stepped into the living room.

"Hey, there he is!" Tony called with exaggerated flamboyance. Things between him and Bucky had been a little strained (to put it mildly) since Bucky told him about what had happened in 1991. Tony's initial reaction had been about as expected - he'd more or less tried to kill him. Perhaps he would have gotten close had Steve and Daphne not intervened when they did. Since then, Stark would give him cold looks and barely speak a word to him every time they saw each other, but for the sake of maintaining an uneasy peace between them (or maybe it was just to appease Daphne), he didn't lash out again. "Where's Marmite?"

That was another thing. The man had finally found a nickname for Daphne he was proud of, and now he was using it more than her actual name. It was lucky she didn't seem to mind it.

Bucky smiled. "She'll be here in a second."

"She was sleeping a long time," Steve noted. "Is she okay?"

"Oh," Bucky said with a chuckle, "she wasn't sleeping."

Steve frowned. "Then what was she doing?"

Bucky paused for a second, not for effect, but rather because he trying to figure out how best to phrase it without explicitly saying what had happened. "Let's just say you're gonna have to get used to sharing your birthday."

Everyone's eyes - except Clint and Laura's - widened as Daphne stepped into view, carrying their son in a bundle of blankets.

"You kept this a secret the whole day?" Natasha asked in surprise as everyone stood up and began heading towards them to get a look at the baby.

"More fun that way," Daphne retorted with a grin. She and Bucky stood silently as the Avengers took their time cooing at and commenting on their son, but eventually a lull in attention meant Bucky could break away from Daphne's side and pick up Vera.

"You ready to meet your baby brother?" he asked her, and then smiled when she nodded eagerly. Keeping a firm hold on her, Bucky let Vera lean forward in his arms so she could peer at her brother for the first time. Her face was awed and curious as she stared back at him, and he stared right back, gnawing on his thumb as he did so.

"Did you guys finally decide on a name?" Steve asked.

Nodding, Bucky replied, "Yeah, eventually."

"You kept Jace, though, right?" Natasha asked quickly. "I like that name."

Daphne nodded, grinning. "Yeah, we kept Jace. His full name is Jace Alexander Steven Barnes."

Steve's face became shocked immediately, then shifted to become impossibly soft. "Thought you decided you weren't gonna name him after me."

Bucky chuckled. "Yeah, well, we figured in the end that there are worse role models for him to have. I'm just praying I'm not gonna come home one day and learn you've been teaching him that brawling in an alleyway is a good idea."

Steve grinned and shook his head. "You're a real jerk, you know that?"

Bucky didn't retort in the expected way. Instead, he laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I know." He grinned at Steve, then down at Daphne, and then at everyone else. "But you know what? I really don't care."


End file.
